•>i-*r. 


"'AH,'    SAID    15AHHIK,    WITH    A    SIDK-til-ANC  1-.    AT    THE 
MINISTER,    'I    AM    ONLY    AN    EGYPTIAN.'" 


Copyright,  1898 
Bv  H.  M.  Caldwell  Company 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  BARBARA  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 


55115 


The   Little  Minister 


Biographical  Sketch 

ON  the  ninth  of  May,  i860,  James  Matthew 
Barrie  was  born  at  Kirriemuir,  a  market 
town  of  Forfarshire,  Scotland,  situated  about 
sixty  miles  north  of  Edinburgh.  His  father 
and  ancestors  for  several  generations  were  born 
in  Thrums,  as  the  quaint  old  town  of  Kirriemuir 
is  best  known  to  Mr.  Barrie's  readers.  He  re- 
ceived his  early  education  at  Dumfries  Academy, 
and  when  eighteen  years  of  age  began  his  studies 
at  Edinburgh  University,  where  he  stood  high  in 
English  literature.  Graduating  from  college  in 
1882,  he  secured,  after  some  months  of  idleness 
in  Edinburgh,  a  position  as  leader  writer  for  the 
Nottingham  Journal y  with  which  he  remained  for 
about  a  year,  when,  after  writing  various  articles 
for  metropolitan  papers,  he  decided  that  there  was 
a  broader  field  in  London,  where  he  established 
himself  early   in    1885. 

In  1887  his  first  tale,  "  Better  Dead,"  a  satire 
on  London  life,  was  published,  followed  in  1888 
by  "  When  a  Man's  Single  "  and  "  Auld  Licht 
Idylls,"  and  later,  "  A  Tillyloss  ^candal." 


xii  Biographical   Sketch 

"  A  Window  in  Thrums,"  containing  articles 
originally  contributed  to  ^Jhe  British  Weekly^  St. 
James  Gazette ^  and  the  National  Observer,  as  well 
as  new  matter,  was  published  in  book  form  in 
May,  1889,  and  by  many  is  considered  the  best 
of  the  author's  earlier  works. 

"My  Lady  Nicotine,"  which  originally  ap- 
peared in  the  St.  James  Gazette,  is  one  of  his  first 
books,  but  it  was  not  published  in  book  form 
until  April,  1890,  when  it  was  issued  principally 
to  assert  Mr,  Barrie's  authorship,  it  having  been 
attributed  to  other  writers. 

In  1 89 1  "The  Little  Minister"  appeared  in 
Good  Words,  and  the  same  year  was  issued  in 
book  form. 

The  author's  later  works  are  "  Sentimental 
Tommy  "  and  "  Margaret  Ogilvv,"  both  of 
which  were  published  in  1896,  the  former  appear- 
ing as  a  serial  in  Scribner  s  Magazine. 

Mr.  Barrie  owes  his  fame  to  his  vivid  and 
pathetic  delineation  of  lowly  Scotch  life,  in  which 
he  has  no  equal. 


Contents 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.      The  Love-light    .....  i 
II.      Runs  alongside  the   Making  of   a    Min- 
ister         ......  8 

III.  The  Night-watchers     ....  20 

IV.  First   Coming   of  the   Egyptian   Woman  36 
V.      A    Warlike    Chapter,     Culminating    in 

the  Flouting  of  the  Minister  by  the 
Woman     .  .  .  .  .  -5' 

VI.      In  which  the   Soldiers    Meet   the  Ama- 
zons  OF  Thrums         .  .  .  .61 
VII.      Has    the     Folly     of     Looking     into     a 

Woman's    Eyes    by    Way    of    Text    .        75 
VIII.      Three   a.m. — Monstrous    Audacity   of 

the  Woman       .....        83 
IX.      The    Woman    Considered    in    Absence  — 

Adventures    of   a    Military    Cloak    .        95 
X.      First  Sermon  against  Women         .  .108 

XI.      Tells    in    a    Whisper     of     Man's    Fall 

during  the   Curling   Season         .  .      121 

XII.      Tragedy  of  a  Mud  House    .  .  -133 

XIII.  Second  Coming  of  the  Egyptian  Woman      141 

XIV.  The  Minister   Dances   to   the  Woman's 

Piping 151 


Vlll 


Contents 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XV.     The  Minister  Bewitched  —  Second  Ser- 
mon AGAINST  Women  .  .  .162 
XVI.      Continued    Misbehaviour    of   the    Egyp- 
tian Woman      .          .          .          .  .172 

XVII.      Intrusion  of  Haggart  into  these   Pages 

against  THE  Author's  Wish        .  .      182 

XVIII.      Caddam  —  Love    Leading   to   a    Rupture      194 
XIX.      Circumstances     Leading     to     the     First 

Sermon     in     Approval     of     Women    .      204 
XX.      End  of  the  State  of  Indecision    .  ,      213 

XXI.      Night  —  Margaret  —  Flashing     of     a 

Lantern   .  .  .  .  .  .224 

XXII.      Lovers  ......      236 

XXIII.  Contains   a   Birth,    vi'hich   Is   Sufficient 

for   One   Chapter      ....      247 

XXIV.  The     New    World,     and     the     Woman 

Who   May  Not  Dwell  Therein  .      254 

XXV.      Beginning   of   the    Twenty-four    Hours     261 
XXVI.      Scene  at  the  Spittal   .  .  .  .271 

XXVII.      First  Journey  of  the  Dominie  to  Thrums 

during  the  Twenty-four  Hours         .      280 
XXVIII.      The     Hill     before     Darkness     Fell  — 

Scene  of   the  Impending   Catastrophe      286 
XXIX.      Story  of  the  Egyptian  .  .  .      294 

XXX.     The  Meeting  for  Rain  .  .  .      304 

XXXI.      Various     Bodies      Converging     on     the 

Hill 313 

XXXII.      Leading  Swiftly  to  the  Appalling  Mar- 
riage        .  .  .  .  .  .324 

XXXIII.  While     the     Ten     o'Clock     Bell    Was 

Ringing     .  .  .  .  .  -33' 

XXXIV.  The  Great  Rain  .  .  .  -339 
XXXV.     The  Glen  at  Break  of  Day          .          .      344 

XXXVI.      Story  of  the  Dominie  .  .  .361 


Contents  ix 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXXVII.      Second    Journey    of    the    Dominie    to 
Thrums     during     the    Twenty-four 
Hours    ......      372 

XXXVIII.      Thrums      during       the      Twenty-four 

Hours  —  Defence    of    the    Manse    .      381 
XXXIX.      How  Babbie  Spent  the    Night   of  Au- 
gust Fourth  .  .  .  .392 

XL.      Babbie    and     Margaret  —  Defence     of 

THE  Manse  Continued     .  .  -399 

XLI.      RiNTOUL    and    Babbie  —  Breakdown    of 

THE  Defence  of  the  Manse     .  .      408 

XLII.      Margaret,    the    Precentor,    and    God 

Between  .  .  .  .  .417 

XLIII.      Rain  —  Mist  —  The  Jaws    .  .  .      427 

XLIV.      End   of  the  Twenty-four  Hours  .      439 

XLV.      Talk   of  a   Little   Maid    Since    Grown 

Tall      ......      447 


The    Little    Minister 

CHAPTER    I 

THE    LOVE  -  LIGHT 

LONG  ago,  in  the  days  when  our  caged  black- 
j  birds  never  saw  a  king's  soldier  without 
whisthng  impudently,  "  Come  ower  the  water 
to  Charlie,"  a  minister  of  Thrums  was  to  be  mar- 
ried, but  something  happened,  and  he  remained 
a  bachelor.  Then,  when  he  was  old,  he  passed  in 
our  square  the  lady  who  was  to  have  been  his 
wife,  and  her  hair  was  white,  but  she,  too,  was 
still  unmarried.  The  meeting  had  only  one  wit- 
ness, a  weaver,  and  he  said  solemnly  afterwards, 
"  They  didna  speak,  but  they  just  gave  one  an- 
other a  look,  and  I  saw  the  love-light  in  their 
een."  No  more  is  remembered  of  these  two,  no 
being  now  living  ever  saw  them,  but  the  poetry 
that  was  in  the  soul  of  a  battered  weaver  makes 
them  human  to  us  for  ever. 

It  is  of  another  minister  I  am  to  tell,  but  only 
to  those  who  know  that  light  when  they  see  it. 
I  am  not  bidding  good-bye  to  many  readers,  for 
though  it  is  true  that  some  men,  of  whom  Lord 
Rintoul  was   one,  Jive   to   an   old   age   without 


2  The  Little  Minister 

knowing  love,  few  of  us  can  have  met  them,  and 
of  women  so  incomplete  I  never  heard. 

Gavin  Dishart  was  barely  twenty-one  when  he 
and  his  mother  came  to  Thrums,  light-hearted 
like  the  traveller  who  knows  not  what  awaits  him 
at  the  bend  of  the  road.  It  was  the  time  of  year 
when  the  ground  is  carpeted  beneath  the  firs  with 
brown  needles,  when  split-nuts  patter  all  day 
from  the  beech,  and  children  lay  yellow  corn  on 
the  dominie's  desk  to  remind  him  that  now  they 
are  needed  in  the  fields.  The  day  was  so  silent 
that  carts  could  be  heard  rumbling  a  mile  away. 
All  Thrums  was  out  in  its  wynds  and  closes  — 
a  few  of  the  weavers  still  in  knee-breeches  —  to 
look  at  the  new  Auld  Licht  minister.  I  was 
there,  too,  the  dominie  of  Glen  Quharity,  which 
is  four  miles  from  Thrums  ;  and  heavy  was  my 
heart  as  I  stood  afar  off  so  that  Gavin's  mother 
might  not  have  the  pain  of  seeing  me.  I  was  the 
only  one  in  the  crowd  who  looked  at  her  more 
than  at  her  son. 

Eighteen  years  had  passed  since  we  parted. 
Already  her  hair  had  lost  the  brightness  of  its 
youth,  and  she  seemed  to  me  smaller  and  more 
fragile ;  and  the  face  that  I  loved  when  I  was  a 
hobbledehoy,  and  loved  when  I  looked  once 
more  upon  it  in  Thrums,  and  always  shall  love 
till  I  die,  was  soft  and  worn.  Margaret  was  an 
old  woman,  and  she  was  only  forty-three :  and  I 
am  the  man  who  made  her  old.  As  Gavin  put 
his  eager,  boyish  face  out  at  the  carriage  window, 
many  saw  that  he  was  holding  her  hand,  but  none 
could  be  glad  at  the  sight  as  the  dominie  w^as  glad, 
looking  on  at  a  happiness  in  which  he  dared  not 


The   Love  -  Light  3 

mingle.  Margaret  was  crying  because  she  was  so 
proud  of  her  boy.  Women  do  that.  Poor  sons 
to  be  proud  of,  good  mothers,  but  I  would  not 
have  you  dry  those  tears. 

When  the  little  minister  looked  out  at  the 
carriage  window,  many  of  the  people  drew  back 
humbly,  but  a  little  boy  in  a  red  frock  with  black 
spots  pressed  forward  and  offered  him  a  sticky 
parly,  which  Gavin  accepted,  though  not  without 
a  tremor,  for  children  were  more  terrible  to  him 
then  than  bearded  men.  The  boy's  mother,  try- 
ing not  to  look  elated,  bore  him  away,  but  her 
face  said  that  he  was  made  for  life.  With  this 
little  incident  Gavin's  career  in  Thrums  began. 
I  remembered  it  suddenly  the  other  day  when 
wading  across  the  wynd  where  it  took  place. 
Many  scenes  in  the  little  minister's  life  come  back 
to  me  in  this  way.  The  first  time  I  ever  thought 
of  writing  his  love  story  as  an  old  man's  gift  to  a 
little  maid  since  grown  tall,  was  one  night  while  I 
sat  alone  in  the  schoolhouse ;  on  my  knees  a 
fiddle  that  has  been  my  only  living  companion 
since  I  sold  my  hens.  My  mind  had  drifted 
back  to  the  first  time  I  saw  Gavin  and  the  Egyp- 
tian together,  and  what  set  it  wandering  to  that 
midnight  meeting  was  my  garden  gate  shaking  in 
the  wind.  At  a  gate  on  the  hill  I  had  first  en- 
countered these  two.  It  rattled  in  his  hand,  and 
I  looked  up  and  saw  them,  and  neither  knew  why 
I  had  such  cause  to  start  at  the  sight.  Then  the 
gate  swung  to.      It  had  just  such  a  click  as  mine. 

These  two  figures  on  the  hill  are  more  real  to 
me  than  things  that  happened  yesterday,  but  I  do 
not  know  that  I  can  make  them  live  to  others. 


4  The   Little   Minister 

A  ghost-show  used  to  come  yearly  to  Thrums  on 
the  merry  Muckle  Friday,  in  which  the  illusion 
was  contrived  by  hanging  a  glass  between  the 
onlookers  and  the  stage.  I  cannot  deny  that 
the  comings  and  goings  of  the  ghost  were  highly 
diverting,  yet  the  farmer  of  T'nowhead  only 
laughed  because  he  had  paid  his  money  at  the 
hole  in  the  door  like  the  rest  of  us.  T'nowhead 
sat  at  the  end  of  a  form  where  he  saw  round  the 
glass  and  so  saw  no  ghost.  I  fear  my  public 
may  be  in  the  same  predicament.  I  see  the 
little  minister  as  he  was  at  one  and  twenty,  and 
the  little  girl  to  whom  this  story  is  to  belong 
sees  him,  though  the  things  I  have  to  tell  hap- 
pened before  she  came  into  the  world.  But  there 
are  reasons  why  she  should  see ;  and  1  do  not 
know  that  I  can  provide  the  glass  for  others.  If 
they  see  round  it,  they  will  neither  laugh  nor  cry 
with  Gavin  and  Babbie. 

When  Gavin  came  to  Thrums  he  was  as  I  am 
now,  for  the  pages  lay  before  him  on  which  he 
was  to  write  his  life.  Yet  he  was  not  quite  as  I 
am.  The  life  of  every  man  is  a  diary  in  which 
he  means  to  write  one  story,  and  writes  another  ; 
and  his  humblest  hour  is  when  he  compares  the 
volume  as  it  is  with  what  he  vowed  to  make  it. 
But  the  biographer  sees  the  last  chapter  while  he 
is  still  at  the  first,  and  I  have  only  to  write  over 
with  ink  what  Gavin  has  written  in  pencil. 

How  often  is  it  a  phanton  woman  who  draws 
the  man  from  the  way  he  meant  to  go  ?  So  was 
man  created,  to  hunger  for  the  ideal  that  is  above 
himself,  until  one  day  there  is  magic  in  the  air, 
and  the  eyes  of  a  girl  rest  upon  him.     He  does 


The   Love  -  Light  5 

not  know  that  it  is  he  himself  who  crowned  her, 
and  if  the  girl  is  as  pure  as  he,  their  love  is  the 
one  form  of  idolatry  that  is  not  quite  ignoble.  It 
is  the  joining  of  two  souls  on  their  way  to  God. 
But  if  the  woman  be  bad,  the  test  of  the  man  is 
when  he  wakens  from  his  dream.  The  nobler 
his  ideal,  the  further  will  he  have  been  hurried 
down  the  wrong  way,  for  those  who  only  run 
after  little  things  will  not  go  far.  His  love  may 
now  sink  into  passion,  perhaps  only  to  stain  its 
wings  and  rise  again,  perhaps  to  drown. 

Babbie,  what  shall  I  say  of  you  to  make  me 
write  these  things  ?  I  am  not  your  judge.  Shall 
we  not  laugh  at  the  student  who  chafes  when  be- 
tween him  and  his  book  comes  the  song  of  the 
thrushes,  with  whom,  on  the  mad  night  you 
danced  into  Gavin's  life,  you  had  more  in  com- 
mon than  with  Auld  Licht  ministers?  The  glad- 
ness of  living  was  in  your  step,  your  voice  was 
melody,  and  he  was  wondering  what  love  might 
be. 

You  were  the  daughter  of  a  summer  night, 
born  where  all  the  birds  are  free,  and  the  moon 
christened  you  with  her  soft  light  to  dazzle  the 
eyes  of  man.  Not  our  little  minister  alone  was 
stricken  by  you  into  nis  second  childhood.  To 
look  upon  you  was  to  rejoice  that  so  fair  a  thing 
could  be  ;  to  think  of  you  is  still  to  be  young. 
Even  those  who  called  you  a  little  devil,  of 
whom  I  have  been  one,  admitted  that  in  the 
end  you  had  a  soul,  though  not  that  you  had 
been  born  with  one.  They  said  you  stole  it,  and 
so  made  a  woman  of  yourself.  But  again  I  say 
I  am  not  your  judge,  and  when  I  picture  you  as 


6  The   Little  Minister 

Gavin  saw  vou  first,  a  bare-legged  witch  dancing 
up  Windyghoul,  rowan  berries  in  your  black 
hair,  and  on  vour  finger  a  jewel  the  little 
minister  could  not  have  bought  with  five  years 
of  toil,  the  shadows  on  my  pages  lift,  and  I 
cannot  wonder  that  Gavin  loved  you. 

Often  I  say  to  myself  that  this  is  to  be  Gavin's 
story,  not  mine.  Yet  must  it  be  mine,  too,  in  a 
manner,  and  of  myself  I  shall  sometimes  have  to 
speak ;  not  willingly,  for  it  is  time  my  little  tragedy 
had  died  of  old  age.  I  have  kept  it  to  myself  so 
long  that  now  I  would  stand  at  its  grave  alone. 
It  is  true  that  when  I  heard  who  was  to  be  the 
new  minister  I  hoped  for  a  day  that  the  life  broken 
in  Harvie  might  be  mended  in  Thrums,  but  two 
minutes'  talk  with  Gavin  showed  me  that  Mar- 
garet had  kept  from  him  the  secret  which  was 
hers  and  mine,  and  so  knocked  the  bottom  out 
of  my  vain  hopes.  I  did  not  blame  her  then,  nor 
do  I  blame  her  now,  nor  shall  any  one  who  blames 
her  ever  be  called  friend  by  me ;  but  it  was  bitter 
to  look  at  the  white  manse  among  the  trees  and 
know  that  I  must  never  enter  it.  For  Margaret's 
sake  I  had  to  keep  aloof,  yet  this  new  trial  came 
upon  me  like  our  parting  at  Harvie.  I  thought 
that  in  those  eighteen  years  my  passions  had 
burned  like  a  ship  till  they  sank,  but  I  suffered 
again  as  on  that  awful  night  when  Adam  Dishart 
came  back,  nearly  killing  Margaret  and  tearing  up 
all  my  ambitions  by  the  root  in  a  single  hour.  I 
waited  in  Thrums  until  I  had  looked  again  on 
Margaret,  who  thought  me  dead,  and  Gavin,  who 
had  never  heard  of  me,  and  then  I  trudged  back 
to  the  schoolhouse.     Something  I  heard  of  them 


The   Love  -  Light  7 

from  time  to  time  during  the  winter,  —  for  in  the 
gossip  of  Thrums  I  was  well  posted,  —  but  much 
of  what  is  to  be  told  here  I  only  learned  after- 
wards from  those  who  knew  it  best.  Gavin  heard 
of  me  at  times  as  the  dominie  in  the  glen  who  had 
ceased  to  attend  the  Auld  Licht  kirk,  and  Mar- 
garet did  not  even  hear  of  me.  It  was  all  I  could 
do  for  them. 


CHAPTER  II 

RUNS    ALONGSIDE    THE    MAKING    OF    A     MINISTER 

ON  the  east  coast  of  Scotland,  hidden,  as  if  in 
a  quarry,  at  the  foot  of  cliffs  that  may  one 
day  fall  forward,  is  a  village  called  Harvie.  So 
has  it  shrunk  since  the  day  when  I  skulked  from 
it  that  I  hear  of  a  traveller's  asking  lately  at  one 
of  its  doors  how  far  he  was  from  a  village ;  yet 
Harvie  throve  once  and  was  celebrated  even  in 
distant  Thrums  for  its  fish.  Most  of  our  weav- 
ers would  have  thought  it  as  unnatural  not  to 
buy  harvies  in  the  square  on  the  Muckle  Frfday, 
as  to  let  Saturday  night  pass  without  laying  in  a 
sufficient  stock  of  halfpennies  to  go  round  the 
family  twice. 

Gavin  was  born  in  Harvie,  but  left  it  at  such 
an  early  age  that  he  could  only  recall  thatched 
houses  with  nets  drying  on  the  roofs,  and  a  sandy 
shore  in  which  coarse  grass  grew.  In  the  picture 
he  could  not  pick  out  the  house  of  his  birth, 
though  he  might  have  been  able  to  go  to  it  had 
he  ever  returned  to  the  village.  Soon  he  learned 
that  his  mother  did  not  care  to  speak  of  Harvie, 
and  perhaps  he  thought  that  she  had  forgotten  it, 
too,  all  save  one  scene  to  which  his  memory  still 
guided  him.  When  his  mind  wandered  to  Har- 
vie, (iavin  saw  the  door  of  his  home  open  and  a 
fisherman  enter,  who  scratched  his  head  and  then 

8 


The   Making  of  a   Minister  9 

said,  "Your  man's  drowned,  missis."  Gavin 
seemed  to  see  many  women  crying,  and  his 
mother  staring  at  them  with  a  face  suddenly 
painted  white,  and  next  to  hear  a  voice  that  was 
his  own  saying,  "  Never  mind,  mother;  I'll  be 
a  man  to  you  now,  and  I'll  need  breeks  for  the 
burial."  But  Adam  required  no  funeral,  for  his 
body  lay  deep  in  the  sea. 

Gavin  thought  that  this  was  the  tragedy  of  his 
mother's  life,  and  the  most  memorable  event  of 
his  own  childhood.  But  it  was  neither.  When 
Margaret,  even  after  she  came  to  l^hrums,  thought 
of  Harvie,  it  was  not  at  Adam's  death  she  shud- 
dered, but  at  the  recollection  of  me. 

It  would  ill  become  me  to  take  a  late  revenge 
on  Adam  Dishart  now  by  saying  what  is  not  true 
of  him.  Though  he  died  a  fisherman,  he  was  a 
sailor  for  a  great  part  of  his  hfe,  and  doubtless  his 
recklessness  was  washed  into  him  on  the  high  seas, 
where  in  his  time  men  made  a  crony  of  death, 
and  drank  merrily  over  dodging  it  for  another 
night.  To  me  his  roars  of  laughter  without  cause 
were  as  repellent  as  a  boy's  drum ;  yet  many 
faces  that  were  long  in  my  company  brightened 
at  his  coming,  and  women,  with  whom,  despite 
my  yearning,  I  was  in  no  wise  a  favourite,  ran  to 
their  doors  to  listen  to  him  as  readily  as  to  the 
bell-man.  Children  scurried  from  him  if  his 
mood  was  savage,  but  to  him  at  all  other  times, 
while  me  they  merely  disregarded.  There  was 
always  a  smell  of  the  sea  about  him.  He  had 
a  rolling  gait,  unless  he  was  drunk,  when  he 
walked  very  straight,  and  before  both  sexes  he 
boasted  that  any  woman  would  take  him  for  his 


lo  The  Little  Minister 

beard  alone.  Of  this  beard  he  took  prodigious 
care,  though  otherwise  thinking  little  of  his 
appearance,  and  I  now  see  that  he  understood 
women  better  than  I  did,  who  had  nevertheless 
reflected  much  about  them.  It  cannot  be  said 
that  he  was  vain,  for  though  he  thought  he 
attracted  women  strangely,  that,  I  maintain,  is  a 
weakness  common  to  all  men,  and  so  no  more  to 
be  marvelled  at  than  a  stake  in  a  fence.  Foreign 
oaths  were  the  nails  with  which  he  held  his  talk 
together,  yet  I  doubt  not  they  were  a  curiosity 
gathered  at  sea,  like  his  chains  of  shells,  more  for 
his  own  pleasure  than  for  others'  pain.  His 
friends  gave  them  no  weight,  and  when  he  wanted 
to  talk  emphatically  he  kept  them  back,  though 
they  were  then  as  troublesome  to  him  as  eggs  to 
the  bird-nesting  boy  who  has  to  speak  with  his 
spoil  in  his  mouth. 

Adam  was  drowned  on  Gavin's  fourth  birth- 
day, a  year  after  I  had  to  leave  Harvie.  He  was 
blown  off  his  smack  in  a  storm,  and  could  not 
reach  the  rope  his  partner  flung  him.  "  It's 
no  go,  lad,"  he  shouted ;  "  so  long,  Jim,"  and 
sank. 

A  month  afterwards  Margaret  sold  her  share 
in  the  smack,  which  was  all  Adam  left  her, 
and  the  furniture  of  the  house  was  rouped.  She 
took  Gavin  to  Glasgow,  where  her  only  brother 
needed  a  housekeeper,  and  there  mother  and  son 
remained  until  Gavin  got  his  call  to  Thrums. 
During  those  seventeen  years  I  lost  knowledge 
of  them  as  completely  as  Margaret  had  lost 
knowledge  of  me.  On  hearing  of  Adam's  death 
I  went  back  to  Harvie  to  try  to  trace  her,  but 


The  Making  of  a  Minister  1 1 

she  had  feared  this,  and  so  told  no  one  where  she 
was  going. 

According  to  Margaret,  Gavin's  genius  showed 
itself  while  he  was  still  a  child.  He  was  born 
with  a  brow  whose  nobility  impressed  her  from 
the  first.  It  was  a  minister's  brow,  and  though 
Margaret  herself  was  no  scholar,  being  as  slow  to 
read  as  she  was  quick  at  turning  bannocks  on  the 
girdle,  she  decided,  when  his  age  was  still  counted 
by  months,  that  the  ministry  had  need  of  him. 
In  those  days  the  first  question  asked  of  a  child 
was  not,  "  Tell  me  your  name,"  but  "  What  are 
you  to  be  ? "  and  one  child  in  every  family 
replied,  "A  minister."  He  was  set  apart  for 
the  Church  as  doggedly  as  the  shilling  a  week 
for  the  rent,  and  the  rule  held  good  though  the 
family  consisted  of  only  one  boy.  From  his 
earliest  days  Gavin  thought  he  had  been  fash- 
ioned for  the  ministry  as  certainly  as  a  spade  for 
digging,  and  Margaret  rejoiced  and  marvelled 
thereat,  though  she  had  made  her  own  puzzle. 
An  enthusiastic  mother  may  bend  her  son's  mind 
as  she  chooses  if  she  begins  at  once ;  nay,  she 
may  do  stranger  things.  I  know  a  mother  in 
Thrums  who  loves  "  features,"  and  had  a  child 
born  with  no  chin  to  speak  of.  The  neighbours 
expected  this  to  bring  her  to  the  dust,  but  it  only 
showed  what  a  mother  can  do.  In  a  few  months 
that  child  had  a  chin  with  the  best  of  them. 

Margaret's  brother  died,  but  she  remained  in 
his  single  room,  and,  ever  with  a  picture  of  her 
son  in  a  pulpit  to  repay  her,  contrived  to  keep 
Gavin  at  school.  Everything  a  woman's  fingers 
can    do    Margaret's   did    better  than  most,  and 


12  The   Little   Minister 

among  the  wealthy  people  who  employed  her 
—  would  that  I  could  have  the  teaching  of  the 
sons  of  such  as  were  good  to  her  in  those  hard 
days  !  —  her  gentle  manner  was  spoken  of  For 
though  Margaret  had  no  schooling,  she  was  a 
lady  at  heart,  moving  and  almost  speaking  as  one 
even  in  Harvie,  where  they  did  not  perhaps  like 
her  the  better  for  it. 

At  six  Gavin  hit  another  boy  hard  for  belong- 
ing to  the  Established  Church,  and  at  seven  he 
could  not  lose  himself  in  the  Shorter  Catechism. 
His  mother  expounded  the  Scriptures  to  him  till 
he  was  eight,  when  he  began  to  expound  them  to 
her.  By  this  time  he  was  studying  the  practical 
work  of  the  pulpit  as  enthusiastically  as  ever  med- 
ical student  cut  off  a  leg.  From  a  front  pew  in 
the  gallery  Gavin  watched  the  minister's  every 
movement,  noting  that  the  first  thing  to  do  on 
ascending  the  pulpit  is  to  cover  your  face  with 
your  hands,  as  if  the  exalted  position  affected  you 
like  a  strong  light,  and  the  second  to  move  the 
big  Bible  slightly,  to  show  that  the  kirk  officer, 
not  having  had  a  university  education,  could  not 
be  expected  to  know  the  very  spot  on  which  it 
ought  to  lie.  Gavin  saw  that  the  minister  joined 
in  the  singing  more  like  one  countenancing  a 
seemly  thing  than  because  he  needed  it  himself, 
and  that  he  only  sang  a  mouthful  now  and  again 
after  the  congregation  was  in  full  pursuit  of  the 
precentor.  It  was  noteworthy  that  the  first  prayer 
lasted  longer  than  all  the  others,  and  that  to 
read  the  intimations  about  the  Bible-class  and 
the  collection  elsewhere  than  immediately  before 
the  last  Psalm  would  have  been  as  sacrilegious  as 


The   Making  of  a   Minister  13 

to  insert  the  dedication  to  King  James  at  the  end 
of  Revelation.  Sitting  under  a  minister  justly 
honoured  in  his  day,  the  boy  was  often  some 
words  in  advance  of  him,  not  vainglorious  of  his 
memory,  but  fervent,  eager,  and  regarding  the 
preacher  as  hardly  less  sacred  than  the  Book. 
Gavin  was  encouraged  by  his  frightened  yet 
admiring  mother  to  saw  the  air  from  their  pew 
as  the  minister  sawed  it  in  the  pulpit,  and  two 
benedictions  were  pronounced  twice  a  Sabbath 
in  that  church,  in  the  same  words,  the  same 
manner,  and  simultaneously. 

There  was  a  black  year  when  the  things  of  this 
world,  especially  its  pastimes,  took  such  a  grip  of 
Gavin  that  he  said  to  Margaret  he  would  rather 
be  good  at  the  high  jump  than  the  author  of 
"  The  Pilgrim's  Progress."  That  year  passed, 
and  Gavin  came  to  his  right  mind.  One  after- 
noon Margaret  was  at  home  making  a  glengarry 
for  him  out  of  a  piece  of  carpet,  and  giving  it  a 
tartan  edging,  when  the  boy  bounded  in  from 
school,  crying,  "  Come  quick,  mother,  and  you'll 
see  him."  Margaret  reached  the  door  in  time  to 
see  a  street  musician  flying  from  Gavin  and  his 
friends.  "  Did  you  take  stock  of  him,  mother  ?  " 
the  boy  asked  when  he  reappeared  with  the  mark 
of  a  muddy  stick  on  his  back.  "  He's  a  Papist! 
—  a  sore  sight,  mother,  a  sore  sight.  We  stoned 
him  for  persecuting  the  noble  Martyrs." 

When  Gavin  was  twelve  he  went  to  the  uni- 
versity, and  also  got  a  place  in  a  shop  as  errand 
boy.  He  used  to  run  through  the  streets  between 
his  work  and  his  classes.  Potatoes  and  salt  fish, 
which  could  then  be  got  at  two  pence  the  pound 


14  The   Little   Minister 

if  bought  by  the  half  hundredweight,  were  his 
food.  There  was  not  always  a  good  meal  for  two, 
yet  when  Gavin  reached  home  at  night  there  was 
generally  something  ready  for  him,  and  Margaret 
had  supped  "  hours  ago."  Gavin's  hunger  urged 
him  to  fall  to,  but  his  love  for  his  mother  made 
him  watchful. 

"  What  did  you  have  yourself,  mother  ?  "  he 
would  demand,  suspiciously. 

"  Oh,  I  had  a  fine  supper,  I  assure  you." 

"  What  had  you  ?  " 

"  I  had  potatoes,  for  one  thing." 

"  And  dripping  ?  " 

"  You  may  be  sure." 

"  Mother,  you're  cheating  me.  The  dripping 
hasn't  been  touched  since  yesterday." 

"  I  dinna  —  don't  —  care  for  dripping —  no 
much." 

Then  would  Gavin  stride  the  room  fiercely,  a 
queer  little  figure. 

"  Do  you  think  I'll  stand  this,  mother  ?  Will 
I  let  myself  be  pampered  with  dripping  and  every 
delicacy  while  you  starve  ?  " 

"  Gavin,   I   really  dinna  care  for  dripping." 

"Then  I'll  give  up  my  classes,  and  we  can 
have  butter." 

"  I  assure  you  I'm  no  hungry.  It's  different 
wi'  a  growing  laddie." 

"  I'm  not  a  growing  laddie,"  Gavin  would  say, 
bitterly  ;  "  but,  mother,  I  warn  you  that  not  an- 
other bite  passes  my  throat  till  I  see  you  eating, 
too." 

So  Margaret  had  to  take  her  seat  at  the  table, 
and  when  she  said  "  I  can  eat  no  more,"  Gavin 


The  Making  of  a  Minister  15 

retorted,  sternly, "  Nor  will  I,  for  fine  I  see  through 
you." 

These  two  were  as  one  far  more  than  most  mar- 
ried people,  and,  just  as  Gavin  in  his  childhood 
reflected  his  mother,  she  now  reflected  him.  The 
people  for  whom  she  sewed  thought  it  was  contact 
with  them  that  had  rubbed  the  broad  Scotch  from 
her  tongue,  but  she  was  only  keeping  pace  with 
Gavin.  When  she  was  excited  the  Harvie  words 
came  back  to  her,  as  they  come  back  to  me.  I 
have  taught  the  English  language  all  my  life,  and 
I  try  to  write  it,  but  everything  I  say  in  this  book 
I  first  think  to  myself  in  the  Doric.  This,  too,  I 
notice,  that  in  talking  to  myself  I  am  broader  than 
when  gossiping  with  the  farmers  of  the  glen,  who 
send  their  children  to  me  to  learn  English,  and 
then  jeer  at  them  if  they  say  "  old  lights  "  instead 
of'auld  lichts." 

To  Margaret  it  was  happiness  to  sit  through 
the  long  evenings  sewing,  and  look  over  her  work 
at  Gavin  as  he  read  or  wrote  or  recited  to  himself 
the  learning  of  the  schools.  But  she  coughed 
every  time  the  weather  changed,  and  then  Gavin 
would  start. 

"  You  must  go  to  your  bed,  mother,"  he  would 
say,  tearing  himself  from  his  books  ;  or  he  would 
sit  beside  her  and  talk  of  the  dream  that  was 
common  to  both,  —  a  dream  of  a  manse  where 
Margaret  was  mistress  and  Gavin  was  called  the 
minister.  Every  night  Gavin  was  at  his  mother's 
bedside  to  wind  her  shawl  round  her  feet,  and 
while  he  did  it  Margaret  smiled. 

"  Mother,  this  is  the  chaff  pillow  you've  taken 
out  of  my  bed,  and  given  me  your  feather  one." 


i6  The   Little   Minister 

"  Gavin,  you  needna  change  them.  I  winna 
have  the  feather  pillow." 

"  Do  you  dare  to  think  I'll  let  you  sleep  on 
chaff?     Put  up  your  head.      Now,  is  that  soft.f*  " 

"  It's  fine.  I  dinna  deny  hut  what  I  sleep 
better  on  feathers.  Do  you  mind,  Gavin,  you 
bought  this  pillow  for  me  the  moment  you  got 
your  bursary  money  ?  " 

The  reserve  that  is  a  wall  between  many  of  the 
Scottish  poor  had  been  broken  down  by  these 
two.  When  he  saw  his  mother  sleeping  happily, 
Gavin  went  back  to  his  work.  To  save  the  ex- 
pense of  a  lamp,  he  would  put  his  book  almost 
beneath  the  dying  fire,  and,  taking  the  place  of 
the  fender,  read  till  he  was  shivering  with  cold. 

"  Gavin,  it  is  near  morning,  and  you  not  in 
your  bed  yet !  What  are  you  thinking  about  so 
hard  ?  " 

"  Oh,  mother,  I  was  wondering  if  the  time 
would  ever  come  when  I  would  be  a  minister, 
and  you  would  have  an  egg  for  your  breakfast 
every  morning." 

So  the  years  passed,  and  soon  Gavin  would  be 
a  minister.  He  had  now  sermons  to  prepare,  and 
every  one  of  them  was  first  preached  to  Margaret. 
How  solemn  was  his  voice,  how  his  eyes  flashed, 
how  stern  were  his  admonitions. 

"  Gavin,  such  a  sermon  I  never  heard.  The 
spirit  of  God  is  on  you.  I'm  ashamed  you  should 
have  me  for  a  mother." 

"  God  grant,  mother,"  Gavin  said,  little  think- 
ing what  was  soon  to  happen,  or  he  would  have 
made  this  prayer  on  his  knees,  "  that  you  may 
never  be  ashamed  to  have  me  for  a  son." 


The  Making  of  a   Minister  17 

"  x^h,  mother,"  he  would  say,  wistfully,  "  it  is 
not  a  great  sermon,  but  do  you  think  I'm  preach- 
ing Christ?  That  is  what  I  try,  but  I'm  carried 
away  and  forget  to  watch  myself" 

"  The  Lord  has  you  by  the  hand,  Gavin  ;  and, 
mind,  I  dinna  say  that  because  you're  my  laddie." 

"  Yes,  you  do,  mother,  and  well  I  know  it,  and 
yet  it  does  me  good  to  hear  you." 

That  it  did  him  good  I,  who  would  fain  have 
shared  those  days  with  them,  am  very  sure.  The 
praise  that  comes  of  love  does  not  make  us  vain, 
but  humble  rather.  Knowing  what  we  are,  the 
pride  that  shines  in  our  mother's  eyes  as  she  looks 
at  us  is  about  the  most  pathetic  thing  a  man  has 
to  face,  but  he  would  be  a  devil  altogether  if  it 
did  not  burn  some  of  the  sin  out  of  him. 

Not  long  before  Gavin  preached  for  our  kirk 
and  got  his  call,  a  great  event  took  place  in  the 
little  room  at  Glasgow.  The  student  appeared 
for  the  first  time  before  his  mother  in  his  minis- 
terial clothes.  He  wore  the  black  silk  hat,  that 
was  destined  to  become  a  terror  to  evil-doers  in 
Thrums,  and  I  dare  say  he  was  rather  puffed  up 
about  himself  that  day.  You  would  probably 
have  smiled  at  him. 

"  It's  a  pity  I'm  so  little,  mother,"  he  said  with 
a  sigh. 

"  You're  no  what  I  would  call  a  particularly 
long  man,"  Margaret  said,  "  but  you're  just  the 
height  I   like." 

Then  Gavin  went  out  in  his  grandeur,  and 
Margaret  cried  for  an  hour.  She  was  thinking 
of  me  as  well  as  of  Gavin,  and,  as  it  happens,  I 
know  that  I  was  thinking  at  the  same  time  of  her. 


1 8  The   Little  Minister 

Gavin  kept  a  diary  in  those  days,  which  I  have 
seen,  and  by  comparing  it  with  mine  I  discovered 
that,  while  he  was  showing  himself  to  his  mother 
in  his  black  clothes,  I  was  on  my  way  back  from 
Tilliedrum,  where  I  had  gone  to  buy  a  sand- 
glass for  the  school.  The  one  I  bought  was  so 
like  another  Margaret  had  used  at  Harvie  that  it 
set  me  thinking  of  her  again  all  the  way  home. 
This  is  a  matter  hardly  worth  mentioning,  and 
yet  it  interests  me. 

Busy  days  followed  the  call  to  Thrums,  and 
Gavin  had  difficulty  in  forcing  himself  to  his  ser- 
mons when  there  was  always  something  more  to 
tell  his  mother  about  the  weaving  town  they  were 
going  to,  or  about  the  manse  or  the  furniture  that 
had  been  transferred  to  him  by  the  retiring  min- 
ister. The  little  room  which  had  become  so 
familiar  that  it  seemed  one  of  a  family  party  of 
three  had  to  be  stripped,  and  many  of  its  con- 
tents were  sold.  Among  what  were  brought  to 
Thrums  was  a  little  exercise  book,  in  which  Mar- 
garet had  tried,  unknown  to  Gavin,  to  teach  her- 
self writing  and  grammar,  that  she  might  be  less 
unfit  for  a  manse.  He  found  it  accidentally  one 
day.  It  was  full  of  "  I  am,  thou  art,  he  is,"  and 
the  like,  written  many  times  in  a  shaking  hand. 
Gavin  put  his  arms  round  his  mother  when  he 
saw  what  she  had  been  doing.  The  exercise  book 
is  in  my  desk  now,  and  will  be  my  little  maid's 
when   I   die. 

"  Gavin,  Gavin,"  Margaret  said  many  times  in 
those  last  days  at  Glasgow,  "  to  think  it  has  all 
come  true  !  " 

"  Let  the  last  word  you  say  in  the  house  be  a 


The   Making  of  a  Minister  19 

prayer  of  thankfulness,"  she  whispered  to  him 
when  they  were  taking  a  final  glance  at  the  old 
home. 

In  the  bare  room  they  called  the  house,  the 
little  minister  and  his  mother  went  on  their 
knees,  but,  as  it  chanced,  their  last  word  there 
was  not  addressed  to  God. 

"  Gavin,"  Margaret  whispered  as  he  took  her 
arm,  "  do  you  think  this  bonnet  sets  me  ?  " 


CHAPTER    III 


THE    NIGHT- WATCHERS 


WHAT  first  struck  Margaret  in  Thrums 
was  the  smell  of  the  caddis.  The  town 
smells  of  caddis  no  longer,  but  whiffs  of  it  may- 
be got  even  now  as  one  passes  the  houses  of  the 
old,  where  the  lay  still  swings  at  little  windows 
like  a  great  ghost  pendulum.  To  me  it  is  a 
homely  smell,  which  I  draw  in  with  a  great 
breath,  but  it  was  as  strange  to  Margaret  as  the 
weavers  themselves,  who,  in  their  coloured  night- 
caps and  corduroys  streaked  with  threads,  gazed 
at  her  and  Gavin.  The  little  minister  was  trying 
to  look  severe  and  old,  but  twenty-one  was  in  his 
eye. 

"  Look,  mother,  at  that  white  house  with  the 
green  roof.     That  is  the  manse." 

The  manse  stands  high,  with  a  sharp  eye  on 
all  the  town.  Every  back  window  in  the  Tene- 
ments has  a  glint  of  it,  and  so  the  back  of  the 
Tenements  is  always  better  behaved  than  the 
front.  It  was  in  the  front  that  Jamie  Don,  a 
pitiful  bachelor  all  his  life  because  he  thought  the 
women  proposed,  kept  his  ferrets,  and  here,  too, 
Beattie  hanged  himself,  going  straight  to  the 
clothes-posts  for  another  rope  when  the  first  one 
broke,  such  was  his  determination.  In  the  front 
Sanders  Gilruth  openly  boasted  (on  Don's  potato- 


The  Night -Watchers  21 

pit)  that  by  having  a  seat  in  two  churches  he 
could  lie  in  bed  on  Sabbath  and  get  the  credit  of 
being  at  one  or  other.  (Gavin  made  short  work 
of  him.)  To  the  right-minded  the  Auld  Licht 
manse  was  as  a  family  Bible,  ever  lying  open 
before  them,  but  Beattie  spoke  for  more  than 
himself  when  he  said,  "  Dagone  that  manse  !  I 
never  gie  a  swear  but  there  it  is  glowering  at  me." 

The  manse  looks  down  on  the  town  from  the 
northeast,  and  is  reached  from  the  road  that 
leaves  Thrums  behind  it  in  another  moment  by 
a  wide,  straight  path,  so  rough  that  to  carry  a 
fraught  of  water  to  the  manse  without  spilling 
was  to  be  superlatively  good  at  one  thing.  Pack- 
ages in  a  cart  it  set  leaping  like  trout  in  a  fishing- 
creel.  Opposite  the  opening  of  the  garden  wall 
in  the  manse,  where  for  many  years  there  had 
been  an  intention  of  putting  up  a  gate,  were  two 
big  stones  a  yard  apart,  standing  ready  for  the 
winter,  when  the  path  was  often  a  rush  of  yellow 
water,  and  this  the  only  bridge  to  the  glebe  dyke, 
down  which  the  minister  walked  to  church. 

When  Margaret  entered  the  manse  on  Gavin's 
arm,  it  was  a  whitewashed  house  of  five  rooms, 
with  a  garret  in  which  the  minister  could  sleep 
if  he  had  guests,  as  during  the  Fast  week.  It 
stood  with  its  garden  within  high  walls,  and  the 
roof  facing  southward  was  carpeted  with  moss 
that  shone  in  the  sun  in  a  dozen  shades  of  green 
and  yellow.  Three  firs  guarded  the  house  from 
west  winds,  but  blasts  from  the  north  often  tore 
down  the  steep  fields  and  skirled  through  the 
manse,  banging  all  its  doors  at  once.  A  beech, 
growing  on  the  east  side,  leant  over  the  roof  as 


22  The   Little   Minister 

if  to  gossip  with  the  well  in  the  courtyard.  ■  The 
garden  was  to  the  south,  and  was  overfull  of 
gooseberry  and  currant  bushes.  It  contained  a 
summer  seat  where  strange  things  were  soon  to 
happen. 

Margaret  would  not  even  take  off  her  bonnet 
until  she  had  seen  through  the  manse  and  opened 
all  the  presses.  The  parlour  and  kitchen  were 
down-stairs,  and  of  the  three  rooms  above,  the 
study  was  so  small  that  Gavin's  predecessor  could 
touch  each  of  its  walls  without  shifting  his  posi- 
tion. Every  room  save  Margaret's  had  long- 
lidded  beds,  which  close  as  if  with  shutters,  but 
hers  was  coff-fronted,  or  comparatively  open, 
with  carving  on  the  wood  like  the  ornamentation 
of  coffins.  Where  there  were  children  in  a  house 
they  liked  to  slope  the  boards  of  the  closed-in 
bed  against  the  dresser,  and  play  at  sliding  down 
mountains  on  them. 

But  for  many  years  there  had  been  no  children 
in  the  manse.  He  in  whose  ways  Gavin  was  to 
attempt  the  heavy  task  of  walking  had  been  a 
widower  three  months  after  his  marriage,  a  man 
narrow  when  he  came  to  Thrums,  but  so  large- 
hearted  when  he  left  it  that  I,  who  know  there  is 
good  in  all  the  world  because  of  the  lovable  souls 
I  have  met  in  this  corner  of  it,  yet  cannot  hope 
that  many  are  as  near  to  God  as  he.  The 
most  gladsome  thing  in  the  world  is  that  few  of 
us  fall  very  low;  the  saddest  that,  with  such 
capabilities,  we  seldom  rise  high.  Of  those  who 
stand  perceptibly  above  their  fellows  I  have 
known  very  few ;  only  Mr.  Carfrae  and  two  or 
three  women. 


The  Night -Watchers  23 

Gavin  only  saw  a  very  frail  old  minister  who 
shook  as  he  walked,  as  if  his  feet  were  striking 
against  stones.  He  was  to  depart  on  the  morrow 
to  the  place  of  his  birth,  but  he  came  to  the 
manse  to  wish  his  successor  Godspeed.  Strangers 
were  so  formidable  to  Margaret  that  she  only 
saw  him  from  her  window. 

"  May  you  never  lose  sight  of  God,  Mr. 
Dishart,"  the  old  man  said  in  the  parlour.  Then 
he  added,  as  if  he  had  asked  too  much  :  "  May 
you  never  turn  from  Him  as  I  often  did  when  I 
was  a  lad  like  you." 

As  this  aged  minister,  with  the  beautiful  face 
that  God  gives  to  all  who  love  Him  and  follow 
His  commandments,  spoke  of  his  youth,  he 
looked  wistfully  round  the  faded  parlour. 

"  It  is  like  a  dream,"  he  said.  "  The  first 
time  I  entered  this  room  the  thought  passed 
through  me  that  I  would  cut  down  that  cherry- 
tree,  because  it  kept  out  the  light,  but,  you  see, 
it  outlives  me.  I  grew  old  while  looking  for  the 
axe.  Only  yesterday  I  was  the  young  minister, 
Mr.  Dishart,  and  to-morrow  you  will  be  the  old 
one,  bidding  good-bye  to  your  successor." 

His  eyes  came  back  to  Gavin's  eager  face. 

"  You  are  very  young,  Mr.  Dishart  ?  " 

"  Nearly  twenty-one." 

"Twenty-one!  Ah,  my  dear  sir,  you  do  not 
know  how  pathetic  that  sounds  to  me.  Twenty- 
one  !  We  are  children  for  the  second  time  at 
twenty-one,  and  again  when  we  are  gray  and  put 
all  our  burden  on  the  Lord.  The  young  talk 
generously  of  relieving  the  old  of  their  burdens, 
but  the  anxious  heart  is  to  the  old  when  they  see 


24  The   Little   Minister 

a  load  on  the  back  of  the  young.  Let  me  tell 
you,  Mr.  Dishart,  that  I  would  condone  many 
things  in  one  and  twenty  now  that  I  dealt  hardly 
with  at  middle  age.  God  Himself,  I  think,  is 
very  willing  to  give  one  and  twenty  a  second 
chance." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  Gavin  said,  anxiously,  "  that  I 
look  even  younger." 

"  I  think,"  Mr.  Carfrae  answered,  smiling, 
"  that  your  heart  is  as  fresh  as  your  face ;  and 
that  is  well.  The  useless  men  are  those  who 
never  change  with  the  years.  Many  views  that  I 
held  to  in  my  youth  and  long  afterwards  are  a 
pain  to  me  now,  and  1  am  carrying  away  from 
Thrums  memories  of  errors  into  which  I  fell  at 
every  stage  of  my  ministry.  When  you  are 
older  you  will  know  that  life  is  a  long  lesson  in 
humility." 

He  paused. 

"  I  hope,"  he  said,  nervously,  "  that  you  don't 
sing  the  Paraphrases  ?  " 

Mr.  Carfrae  had  not  grown  out  of  all  his 
prejudices,  you  see  ;  indeed,  if  Gavin  had  been 
less  bigoted  than  he  on  this  question  they  might 
have  parted  stiffly.  The  old  minister  would  rather 
have  remained  to  die  in  his  pulpit  than  surrender 
it  to  one  who  read  his  sermons.  Others  may  blame 
him  for  this,  but  I  must  say  here  plainly  that  I 
never  hear  a  minister  reading  without  wishing  to 
send  him  back  to  college. 

"  I  cannot  deny,"  Mr.  Carfrae  said,  "  that  I 
broke  down  more  than  once  to-day.  This  fore- 
noon I  was  in  Tillyloss,  for  the  last  time,  and  it 
so  happens  that  there  is  scarcely  a  house  in  it  in 


The  Night -Watchers  25 

which  I  have  not  had  a  marriage  or  prayed  over 
a  coffin.  Ah,  sir,  these  are  the  scenes  that  malce 
the  minister  more  than  all  his  sermons.  You 
must  join  the  family,  Mr.  Dishart,  or  you  are 
only  a  minister  once  a  week.  And  remember 
this,  if  your  call  is  from  above,  it  is  a  call  to 
stay.  Many  such  partings  in  a  lifetime  as  I 
have  had  to-day  would  be  too  heartrending." 

"  And  yet,"  Gavin  said,  hesitatingly,  "  they 
told  me  in  Glasgow  that  I  had  received  a  call 
from  the  mouth  of  hell." 

"  Those  were  cruel  words,  but  they  only  mean 
that  people  who  are  seldom  more  than  a  day's 
work  in  advance  of  want  sometimes  rise  in  arms 
for  food.  Our  weavers  are  passionately  religious, 
and  so  independent  that  they  dare  any  one  to 
help  them,  but  if  their  wages  were  lessened  they 
could  not  live.  And  so  at  talk  of  reduction  they 
catch  fire.  Change  of  any  kind  alarms  them,  and 
though  they  call  themselves  Whigs,  they  rose  a 
few  years  ago  over  the  paving  of  the  streets  and 
stoned  the  workmen,  who  were  strangers,  out  of 
the  town." 

"  And  though  you  may  have  thought  the 
place  quiet  to-day,  Mr.  Dishart,  there  was  an 
ugly  outbreak  only  two  months  ago,  when  the 
weavers  turned  on  the  manufacturers  for  reducing 
the  price  of  the  web,  made  a  bonfire  of  some  of 
their  doors,  and  terrified  one  of  them  into  leaving 
Thrums.  Under  the  command  of  some  Chart- 
ists, the  people  next  paraded  the  streets  to  the 
music  of  fife  and  drum,  and  six  policemen  who 
drove  up  from  Tilliedrum  in  a  light  cart  were 
sent  back  tied  to  the  seats." 


26  The   Little   Minister 

"  No  one  has  been  punished  ?  " 

"  Not  yet,  but  nearly  two  years  ago  there  was 
a  similar  riot,  and  the  sheriff"  took  no  action  for 
months.  Then  one  night  the  square  suddenly 
filled  with  soldiers,  and  the  ringleaders  were 
seized  in  their  beds.  Mr.  Dishart,  the  people 
are  determined  not  to  be  caught  in  that  way 
again,  and  ever  since  the  rising  a  watch  has 
been  kept  by  night  on  every  road  that  leads 
to  Thrums.  The  signal  that  the  soldiers  are 
coming  is  to  be  the  blowing  of  a  horn.  If  you 
ever  hear  that  horn,  I  implore  you  to  hasten 
to  the  square." 

"  The  weavers  would  not  fight.? " 

"  You  do  not  know  how  the  Chartists  have 
fired  this  part  of  the  country.  One  misty  day, 
a  week  ago,  I  was  on  the  hill ;  I  thought  I  had 
it  to  myself,  when  suddenly  I  heard  a  voice  cry 
sharply,  '  Shoulder  arms.'  I  could  see  no  one, 
and  after  a  moment  I  put  it  down  to  a  freak 
of  the  wind.  Then  all  at  once  the  mist  before 
me  blackened,  and  a  body  of  men  seemed  to 
grow  out  of  it.  They  were  not  shadows  ;  they 
were  Thrums  weavers  drilling,  with  pikes  in 
their  hands. 

"They  broke  up,"  Mr.  Carfrae  continued, 
after  a  pause,  "  at  my  entreaty,  but  they  have 
met  again  since  then." 

"  And  there  were  Auld  Lichts  among  them  ?  " 
Gavin  asked.  "  I  should  have  thought  they 
would  be  frightened  at  our  precentor,  Lang 
Tammas,  who  seems  to  watch  for  backsliding 
in  the  congregation  as  if  he  had  pleasure  in 
discovering  it." 


The  Night -Watchers  27 

Gavin  spoke  with  feehng,  for  the  precentor 
had  already  put  him  through  his  catechism,  and 
it  was  a  stiff  ordeal. 

"  The  precentor  !  "  said  Mr.  Carfrae.  "  Why, 
he  was  one  of  them." 

The  old  minister,  once  so  brave  a  figure, 
tottered  as  he  rose  to  go,  and  reeled  in  a  diz- 
ziness until  he  had  walked  a  few  paces.  Gavin 
went  with  him  to  the  foot  of  the  manse  road ; 
without  his  hat,  as  all  Thrums  knew  before 
bedtime. 

"  I  begin,"  Gavin  said,  as  they  were  parting, 
"  where  you  leave  off,  and  my  prayer  is  that  I 
may  walk  in  your  ways." 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Dishart,"  the  white-haired  minister 
said,  with  a  sigh,  "  the  world  does  not  progress 
so  quickly  as  a  man  grows  old.  You  only  begin 
v/here  I  began." 

He  left  Gavin,  and  then,  as  if  the  little  minis- 
ter's last  words  had  hurt  him,  turned  and  sol- 
emnly pointed  his  staff  upward.  Such  men  are 
the  strong  nails  that  keep  the  world  together. 

The  twenty-one-years-old  minister  returned  to 
the  manse  somewhat  sadly,  but  when  he  saw  his 
mother  at  the  window  of  her  bedroom,  his  heart 
leapt  at  the  thought  that  she  was  with  him  and  he 
had  eighty  pounds  a  year.  Gaily  he  waved  both 
his  hands  to  her,  and  she  answered  with  a  smile, 
and  then,  in  his  boyishness,  he  jumped  over  a 
gooseberry  bush.  Immediately  afterwards  he 
reddened  and  tried  to  look  venerable,  for  while 
in  the  air  he  had  caught  sight  of  two  women  and 
a  man  watching  him  from  the  dyke.  He  walked 
severely    to    the    door,    and,    again     forgetting 


28  The  Little  Minister 

himself,  was  bounding  up-stairs  to  Margaret, 
when  Jean,  the  servant,  stood  scandalised  in  his 
way. 

"  I  don't  think  she  caught  me,"  was  Gavin's 
reflection,  and  "  The  Lord  preserve's  !  "  was 
Jean's. 

Gavin  found  his  mother  wondering  how  one 
should  set  about  getting  a  cup  of  tea  in  a  house 
that  had  a  servant  in  it.  He  boldly  rang  the 
bell,  and  the  willing  Jean  answered  it  so  promptly 
(in  a  rush  and  jump)  that  Margaret  was  as  much 
startled  as  Aladdin  the  first  time  he  rubbed  his 
lamp. 

Manse  servants  of  the  most  admired  kind 
move  softly,  as  if  constant  contact  with  a  min- 
ister were  goloshes  to  them  ;  but  Jean  was  new 
and  raw,  only  having  got  her  place  because  her 
father  might  be  an  elder  any  day.  She  had 
already  conceived  a  romantic  affection  for  her 
master;  but  to  say  "sir"  to  him  —  as  she 
thirsted  to  do  —  would  have  been  as  difScult 
to  her  as  to  swallow  oysters.  So  anxious  was 
she  to  please  that  when  Gavin  rang  she  fired  her- 
self at  the  bedroom,  but  bells  were  novelties  to 
her  as  well  as  to  Margaret,  and  she  cried, 
excitedly,  "  What  is  't  ? "  thinking  the  house 
must  be  on  fire. 

"  There's  a  curran  folk  at  the  back  door," 
Jean  announced  later,  "  and  their  respects  to 
you,  and  would  you  gie  them  some  water  out  o' 
the  well  ?  It  has  been  a  drouth  this  aucht  days, 
and  the  pumps  is  locked.  Na,"  she  said,  as 
Gavin  made  a  too  liberal  offer,  "  that  would 
toom   the   well,  and    there's  jimply   enough   for 


The  Night -Watchers  219 

oursels.  I  should  tell  you,  too,  that  three  o' 
them  is  no  Auld  Lichts." 

"  Let  that  make  no  difference,"  Gavin  said, 
grandly,  but  Jean  changed  his  message  to  :  "A 
bowlful  apiece  to  Auld  Lichts ;  all  other  denom- 
inations one  cupful." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  said  Snecky  Hobart,  letting  down 
the  bucket,  "  and  we'll  include  atheists  among 
other  denominations."  The  conversation  came 
to  Gavin  and  Margaret  through  the  kitchen 
doorway. 

"  Dinna  class  Jo  Cruickshanks  wi'  me,"  said 
Sam'l  Langlands  the  U.  P. 

"  Na,  na,"  said  Cruickshanks  the  atheist, 
"  I'm  ower  independent  to  be  religious.  I 
dinna  gang  to  the  kirk  to  cry,  '  Oh,  Lord,  gie, 
gie,  gie.'" 

"  Take  tent  o'  yoursel',  my  man,"  said  Lang 
Tammas,  sternly,  "  or  you'll  soon  be  whaur  you 
would  neifer  the  warld  for  a  cup  o'  that  cauld 
water." 

"  Maybe  you've  ower  keen  an  interest  in  the 
devil,  Tammas,"  retorted  the  atheist;  "but,  ony 
way,  if  it's  heaven  for  climate,  it's  hell  for  com- 
pany." 

"  Lads,"  said  Snecky,  sitting  down  on  the 
bucket,  "we'll  send  Mr.  Dishart  to  Jo.  He'll 
make  another  Rob  Dow  o'  him." 

"  Speak  mair  reverently  o'  your  minister," 
said  the  precentor.     "  He  has   the  gift." 

"  I  hinna  naturally  your  solemn  rasping  word, 
Tammas,  but  in  the  heart  I  speak  in  all  rever- 
ence. Lads,  the  minister  has  a  word  !  I  tell  you 
he  prays  near  like  one  giving  orders." 


30 


The   Little   Minister 


"At  first,"  Snecky  continued,  "  I  thocht  yon 
lang  candidate  was  the  earnestest  o'  them  a',  and 
I  dinna  deny  but  when  I  saw  him  wi'  his  head 
bowed-like  in  prayer  during  the  singing  I  says  to 
mysel',  '  Thou  art  the  man.'  Ay,  but  Betsy 
wraxed  up  her  head,  and  he  wasna  praying.  He 
was  combing  his  hair  wi'  his  fingers  on  the  sly." 

"  You  ken  fine,  Sneck,"  said  Cruickshanks, 
"  that  you  said  '  Thou  art  the  man '  to  ilka  ane 
o'  them,  and  just  voted  for  Mr.  Dishart  because 
he  preached  hinmost." 

"  I  didna  say  it  to  Mr.  Urquhart,  the  ane  that 
preached  second,"  Sneck  said.  "  That  was  the 
lad  that  gaed  through  ither." 

"  Ay,"  said  Susy  Tibbits,  nicknamed  by  Hag- 
gart  "  the  Timidest  Woman,"  because  she  once 
said  she  was  too  young  to  marry,  "  but  I  was  fell 
sorry  for  him,  just  being  overanxious.  He 
began  bonny,  flinging  himself,  like  ane  inspired, 
at  the  pulpit  door,  but  after  Hendry  Munn 
pointed  at  it  and  cried  out,  *  Be  cautious,  the 
sneck's  loose,'  he  a'  gaed  to  bits.  What  a  cool- 
ness Hendry  has,  though  I  suppose  it  was  his 
duty,  him  being  kirk  officer." 

"  We  didna  want  a  man,"  Lang  Tammas  said, 
"that  could  be  put  out  by  sic  a  sma'  thing  as 
that.  Mr.  Urquhart  was  in  sic  a  ravel  after  it 
that  when  he  gies  out  the  first  line  o'  the  hunder 
and  nineteenth  psalm  for  singing,  says  he,  *  And 
so  on  to  the  end.'    Ay,  that  finished  his  chance." 

"  The  noblest  o'  them  to  look  at,"  said  Tibbie 
Birse,  "  was  that  ane  frae  Aberdeen,  him  that  had 
sic  a  saft  side  to  Jacob." 

"  Ay,"  said  Snecky,  "  and  I  speired  at  Doctor 


The  Night -Watchers  31 

McQueen  if  I  should  vote  for  him.  *  Looks  like 
a  genius,  does  he  ? '  says  the  Doctor.  '  Weel, 
then,'  says  he,  '  dinna  vote  for  him,  for  my  expe- 
rience is  that  there's  no  folk  sic  idiots  as  them 
that  looks  like  geniuses.'  " 

"  Sal,"  Susy  said,  "  it's  a  guid  thing  we've 
settled,  for  I  enjoyed  sitting  like  a  judge  upon 
them  so  muckle  that  I  sair  doubt  it  was  a  kind 
o'  sport  to  me." 

"  It  was  no  sport  to  them,  Susy,  I'se  uphaud, 
but  it  is  a  blessing  we've  settled,  and  ondoubtedly 
we've  got  the  pick  o'  them.  The  only  thing  Mr. 
Dishart  did  that  made  me  oneasy  was  his  saying 
the  word  Caesar  as  if  it  began  wi'  a  k!' 

"  He'll  startle  you  mair  afore  you're  done  wi' 
him,"  the  atheist  said,  maliciously.  "  I  ken  the 
ways  o'  thae  ministers  preaching  for  kirks.  Oh, 
they're  cunning.  You  was  a'  pleased  that  Mr. 
Dishart  spoke  about  looms  and  webs,  but,  lathies, 
it  was  a  trick.  Ilka  ane  o'  thae  young  ministers 
has  a  sermon  about  looms  for  weaving  congrega- 
tions, and  a  second  about  beating  swords  into 
ploughshares  for  country  places,  and  another  on 
the  great  catch  of  fishes  for  fishing  villages. 
That's  their  stock  in  trade  ;  and  just  you  wait 
and  see  if  you  dinna  get  the  ploughshares  and  the 
fishes  afore  the  month's  out.  A  minister  preach- 
ing for  a  kirk  is  one  thing,  but  a  minister  placed 
in't  may  be  a  very  different  berry," 

"  Joseph  Cruickshanks,"  cried  the  precentor, 
passionately,  "  none  o'  your  d d  blasphemy  !  " 

They  all  looked  at  Whamond,  and  he  dug  his 
teeth  into  his  lips  in  shame. 

"  Wha's  swearing  now  ?  "  said  the  atheist. 


32  The   Little   Minister 

But  Whamond  was  quick. 

"  Matthew,  twelve  and  thirty-one,"  he  said. 

"  Dagont,  Tammas,"  exclaimed  the  baffled 
Cruickshanks,  "  you're  aye  quoting  Scripture. 
How  do   vou   no  quote   Feargus  O'Connor?" 

"  Lads,"  said  Snecky,  "  Jo  hasna  heard  Mr. 
Dishart's  sermons.  Ay,  we  get  it  scalding  when 
he  comes  to  the  sermon.  I  canna  thole  a  minister 
that  preaches  as  if  heaven  was  round  the  corner." 

"  If  you're  hitting  at  our  minister,  Snecky," 
said  James  Cochrane,  "  let  me  tell  you  he's  a 
better  man  than  yours." 

"  A  better  curler,  I  dare  say." 

"  A  better  prayer." 

"  Ay,  he  can  pray  for  a  black  frost  as  if  it  was 
ane  o'  the  Royal  Family.  I  ken  his  prayers,  *  O 
Lord,  let  it  baud  for  anither  day,  and  keep  the 
snaw  awa'.'  Will  you  pretend,  Jeames,  that  Mr. 
Duthie  could  make  onything  o'  Rob  Dow  ?  " 

"  I  admit  that  Rob's  awakening  was  an  extraor- 
dinary thing,  and  sufficient  to  gie  Mr.  Dishart  a 
name.     But  Mr.  Carfrae  was  baffled  wi'  Rob,  too." 

"  Jeames,  if  you  had  been  in  our  kirk  that 
day  Mr.  Dishart  preached  for't  you  would  be 
wearying  the  now  for  Sabbath,  to  be  back  in't 
again.  As  you  ken,  that  wicked  man  there,  Jo 
Cruickshanks,  got  Rob  Dow,  drucken,  cursing, 
poaching  Rob  Dow,  to  come  to  the  kirk  to  annoy 
the  minister.  Ay,  he  hadna  been  at  that  work 
for  ten  minutes  when  Mr.  Dishart  stopped  in  his 
first  prayer  and  ga'e  Rob  a  look.  I  couldna  see 
the  look,  being  in  the  precentor's  box,  but  as 
sure  as  death  I  felt  it  boring  through  me.  Rob 
is   hard  wood,  though,  and  soon   he  was  at  his 


The  Night -Watchers  23 

tricks  again.  Weel,  the  minister  stopped  a  second 
time  in  the  sermon,  and  so  awful  was  the  silence 
that  a  heap  o'  the  congregation  couldna  keep 
their  seats.  I  heard  Rob  breathing  quick  and 
strong.  Mr.  Dishart  had  his  arm  pointed  at 
him  a'  this  time,  and  at  last  he  says,  sternly, 
'  Come  forward,'  Listen,  Joseph  Cruickshanks, 
and  tremble.  Rob  gripped  the  board  to  keep 
himsel'  frae  obeying,  and  again  Mr.  Dishart  says, 
'  Come  forward,'  and  syne  Rob  rose,  shaking,  and 
tottered  to  the  pulpit  stair  hke  a  man  suddenly 
shot  into  the  Day  of  Judgment.  '  You  hulking 
man  of  sin,'  cries  Mr.  Dishart,  not  a  tick  fleid, 
though  Rob's  as  big  as  three  o'  him,  '  sit  down 
on  the  stair  and  attend  to  me,  or  I'll  step  doun 
frae  the  pulpit  and  run  you  out  of  the  house  of 
God.' " 

"And  since  that  day,"  said  Hobart,  "  Rob  has 
worshipped  Mr.  Dishart  as  a  man  that  has  stepped 
out  o'  the  Bible.  When  the  carriage  passed  this 
day  we  was  discussing  the  minister,  and  Sam'l 
Dickie  wasna  sure  but  what  Mr.  Dishart  wore 
his  hat  rather  far  back  on  his  head.  You  should 
have  seen  Rob.  '  My  certie,'  he  roars,  '  there's 
the  shine  frae  Heaven  on  that  little  minister's 
face,  and  them  as  says  there's  no  has  me  to 
fecht.'" 

"  Ay,  weel,"  said  the  U.  P.,  rising,  "  we'll  see 
how  Rob  wears  —  and  how  your  minister  wears, 
too.  I  wouldna  like  to  sit  in  a  kirk  whaur  they 
daurna  sing  a  paraphrase." 

"  The  Psalms  of  David,"  retorted  Whamond, 
"  mount  straight  to  heaven,  but  your  paraphrases 
sticks  to  the  ceiling  o'  the  kirk." 


34  The   Little   Minister 

"  You're  a  bigoted  set,  Tarn  mas  Whamond, 
but  I  tell  you  this,  and  it's  my  last  words  to  you 
the  nicht,  the  day'll  come  when  you'll  hae  Mr. 
Duthie,  ay,  and  even  the  U.  P.  minister,  preach- 
ing in  the  Auld  Licht  kirk." 

"  And  let  this  be  my  last  words  to  you," 
replied  the  precentor,  furiously ;  "  that  rather 
than  see  a  U.  P.  preaching  in  the  Auld  Licht 
kirk  I  would  burn  in  hell  fire  for  ever !  " 

This  gossip  increased  Gavin's  knowledge  of 
the  grim  men  with  whom  he  had  now  to  deal. 
But  as  he  sat  beside  Margaret  after  she  had  gone 
to  bed,  their  talk  was  pleasant. 

"  You  remember,  mother,"  Gavin  said,  "  how 
I  almost  prayed  for  the  manse  that  was  to  give 
you  an  egg  every  morning.  I  have  been  telling 
Jean  never  to  forget  the  egg." 

"  Ah,  Gavin,  things  have  come  about  so  much 
as  we  wanted  that  I'm  a  kind  o'  troubled.  It's 
hardly  natural,  and  I  hope  nothing  terrible  is  to 
happen  now." 

Gavin  arranged  her  pillows  as  she  liked  them, 
and  when  he  next  stole  into  the  room  in  his 
stocking  soles  to  look  at  her,  he  thought  she  was 
asleep.  But  she  was  not.  I  dare  say  she  saw  at 
that  moment  Gavin  in  his  first  frock,  and  Gavin 
in  knickerbockers,  and  Gavin  as  he  used  to  walk 
into  the  Glasgow  room  from  college,  all  still  as 
real  to  her  as  the  Gavin  who  had  a  kirk. 

The  little  minister  took  away  the  lamp  to  his 
own  room,  shaking  his  fist  at  himself  for  allowing 
his  mother's  door  to  creak.  He  pulled  up  his 
blind.  The  town  lay  as  still  as  salt.  But  a 
steady  light  showed  in  the  south,  and  on  press- 


The   Night -Watchers  35 

ing  his  face  against  the  window  he  saw  another  In 
the  west.  Mr.  Carfrae's  words  about  the  night- 
watch  came  back  to  him.  Perhaps  it  had  been 
on  such  a  silent  night  as  this  that  the  soldiers 
marched  into  Thrums.    Would  they  come  again  ^ 


CHAPTER    IV 

FIRST    COMING    OF    THE    EGYPTIAN    WOMAN 

A  LEARNED  man  says  in  a  book,  other- 
wise beautiful  with  truth,  that  villages  are 
family  groups.  To  him  Thrums  would  only 
be  a  village,  though  town  is  the  word  we  have 
ever  used,  and  this  is  not  true  of  it.  Doubt- 
less we  have  interests  in  common,  from  which  a 
place  so  near  (but  the  road  is  heavy)  as  Tillie- 
drum  is  shut  out,  and  we  have  an  individuality 
of  our  own,  too,  as  if,  like  our  red  houses,  we 
came  from  a  quarry  that  supplies  no  other  place. 
But  we  are  not  one  family.  In  the  old  days, 
those  of  us  who  were  of  the  Tenements  seldom 
wandered  to  the  Croft  head,  and  if  we  did  go 
there  we  saw  men  to  whom  we  could  not  always 
give  a  name.  To  flit  from  the  Tanage  brae  to 
Haggart's  road  was  to  change  one's  friends,  A 
kirk-wynd  weaver  might  kill  his  swine  and  Tilly- 
loss  not  know  of  it  until  boys  ran  westward 
hitting  each  other  with  the  bladders.  Only  the 
voice  of  the  dulsemen  could  be  heard  all  over 
Thrums  at  once.  Thus  even  in  a  small  place 
but  a  few  outstanding  persons  are  known  to 
everybody. 

In  eight  days  Gavin's  figure  was  more  familiar 
in  Thrums  than  many  that  had  grown  bent  in  it. 
He  had  already  been  twice  to  the  cemetery,  for  a 

36 


The  Egyptian  37 

minister  only  reaches  his  new  charge  in  time  to 
attend  a  funeral.  Though  short  of  stature  he  cast 
a  great  shadow.  He  was  so  full  of  his  duties, 
Jean  said,  that  though  he  pulled  to  the  door 
as  he  left  the  manse,  he  had  passed  the  currant- 
bushes  before  it  snecked.  He  darted  through 
courts,  and  invented  ways  into  awkward  houses. 
If  you  did  not  look  up  quickly  he  was  round 
the  corner.  His  visiting  exhausted  him  only 
less  than  his  zeal  in  the  pulpit,  from  which, 
according  to  report,  he  staggered  damp  with 
perspiration  to  the  vestry,  where  Hendry  Munn 
wrung  him  like  a  wet  cloth.  A  deaf  lady,  cele- 
brated for  giving  out  her  washing,  compelled  him 
to  hold  her  trumpet  until  she  had  peered  into  all 
his  crannies,  with  the  Shorter  Catechism  for  a 
lantern.  Janet  Dundas  told  him,  in  answer  to 
his  knock,  that  she  could  not  abide  him,  but  she 
changed  her  mind  when  he  said  her  garden  was 
quite  a  show.  The  wives  who  expected  a  visit 
scrubbed  their  floors  for  him,  cleaned  out  their 
presses  for  him,  put  diamond  socks  on  their 
bairns  for  him,  rubbed  their  hearthstones  blue 
for  him,  and  even  tidied  up  the  garret  for 
him,  and  triumphed  over  the  neighbours  whose 
houses  he  passed  by.  For  Gavin  blundered 
occasionally  by  inadvertence,  as  when  he  gave 
dear  old  Betty  Davie  occasion  to  say  bitterly : 

"  Ou  ay,  you  can  sail  by  my  door  and  gang  to 
Easie's,  but  I'm  thinking  you  would  stop  at  mine, 
too,  if  I  had  a  brass  handle  on't." 

So  passed  the  first  four  weeks,  and  then  came 
the  fateful  night  of  the  seventeenth  of  October, 
and  with  it  the  strange  woman.     Family  worship 


38  The   Little   Minister 

at  the  manse  was  over  and  Gavin  was  talking  to 
his  mother,  who  never  crossed  the  threshold  save 
to  go  to  church  (though  her  activity  at  home  was 
among  the  marvels,  Jean  sometimes  slipped  down 
to  the  Tenements  to  announce),  when  Wearyworld 
the  policeman  came  to  the  door  "  with  Rob  Dow's 
compliments,  and  if  you're  no  wi'  me  by  ten 
o'clock  I'm  to  break  out  again."  Gavin  knew 
what  this  meant,  and  at  once  set  off  for  Rob's. 

"  You'll  let  me  gang  a  bit  wi'  you,"  the  police- 
man entreated,  "  for  till  Rob  sent  me  on  this 
errand  not  a  soul  has  spoken  to  me  the  day ; 
ay,  mony  a  ane  hae  I  spoken  to,  but  not  a  man, 
woman,  nor  bairn  would  fling  me  a  word." 

"  I  often  meant  to  ask  you,"  Gavin  said  as 
they  went  along  the  Tenements,  which  smelled 
at  that  hour  of  roasted  potatoes,  "  why  you  are 
so  unpopular." 

"  It's  because  I'm  police.  I'm  the  first  ane 
that  has  ever  been  in  Thrums,  and  the  very  folk 
that  appointed  me  at  a  crown  a  week  looks  upon 
me  as  a  disgraced  man  for  accepting.  It's  Gospel 
that  my  ain  wife  is  short  wi'  me  when  I've  on  my 
uniform,  though  weel  she  kens  that  I  would  rather 
hae  stuck  to  the  loom  if  I  hadna  ha'en  sic  a  queer 
richt  leg.  Nobody  feels  the  shame  o'  my  posi- 
tion as  I  do  mysel',  but  this  is  a  town  without 
pity." 

"  It  should  be  a  consolation  to  vou  that  you 
are  discharging  useful  duties." 

"  But  I'm  no.  I'm  doing  harm.  There's 
Charles  Dickson  says  that  the  very  sicht  o'  my 
uniform  rouses  his  dander  so  muckle  that  it  makes 
him  break  windows,  though  a  peaceably-disposed 


The  Egyptian  39 

man  till  I  was  appointed.  And  what's  the  use  o' 
their  haeing  a  policeman  when  they  winna  come 
to  the  lock-up  after  I  lay  hands  on  them  ?  " 

"  Do  they  say  they  won't  come  ?  " 

"  Say  ?  Catch  them  saying  onything  !  They 
just  gie  me  a  wap  into  the  gutters.  If  they  would 
speak  I  wouldna  complain,  for  I'm  nat'rally  the 
sociablest  man  in  Thrums." 

"  Rob,  however,  had  spoken  to  you." 

"  Because  he  had  need  o'  me.  That  was  aye 
Rob's  way,  converted  or  no  converted.  When 
he  w^as  blind  drunk  he  would  order  me  to  see 
him  safe  hame,  but  would  he  crack  wi'  me? 
Na,  na." 

Wearyworld,  who  was  so  called  because  of  his 
forlorn  way  of  muttering,  "  It's  a  w^ary  warld, 
and  nobody  bides  in't,"  as  he  went  his  melan- 
choly rounds,  sighed  like  one  about  to  cry,  and 
Gavin  changed  the  subject. 

"  Is  the  watch  for  the  soldiers  still  kept  up  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  It  is,  but  the  watchers  winna  let  me  in  aside 
them.  I'll  let  you  see  that  for  yoursel'  at  the 
head  o'  the  Roods,  for  they  watch  there  in  the 
auld  wind-mill." 

Most  of  the  Thrums  lights  were  already  out, 
and  that  in  the  windmill  disappeared  as  footsteps 
were  heard. 

"  You're  desperate  characters,"  the  policeman 
cried,  but  got  no  answer.     He  changed  his  tactics. 

"  A  fine  nicht  for  the  time  o'  year,"  he  cried. 
No  answer. 

"  But  I  wouldna  wonder,"  he  shouted,  "  though 
we  had  rain  afore  morning."     No  answer. 


40  The  Little  Minister 

"  Surely  you  could  gie  me  a  word  frae  ahint 
the  door.  You're  doing  an  onlawful  thing,  but  I 
dinna  ken  wha  you  are." 

"You'll  swear  to  that?"  some  one  asked 
gruffly. 

"  I  swear  to  it,  Peter." 

Wearyworld  tried  another  six  remarks  in  vain. 

"  Ay,"  he  said  to  the  minister,  "  that's  what  it 
is  to  be  an  onpopular  man.  And  now  I'll  hae  to 
turn  back,  for  the  very  anes  that  winna  let  me  join 
them  would  be  the  first  to  complain  if  I  gaed  out 
o'  bounds." 

Gavin  found  Dow  at  New  Zealand,  a  hamlet 
of  mud  houses,  whose  tenants  could  be  seen  on 
any  Sabbath  morning  washing  themselves  in  the 
burn  that  trickled  hard  by.  Rob's  son,  Micah, 
was  asleep  at  the  door,  but  he  brightened  when 
he  saw  who  was  shaking  him. 

"  My  father  put  me  out,"  he  explained,  "  be- 
cause he's  daft  for  the  drink,  and  was  fleid  he 
would  curse  me.  He  hasna  cursed  me,"  Micah 
added,  proudly,  "  for  an  aucht  days  come  Sab- 
bath. Hearken  to  him  at  his  loom.  He  daurna 
take  his  feet  off  the  treadles  for  fear  o'  running 
straucht  to  the  drink." 

Gavin  went  in.  The  loom,  and  two  stools,  the 
one  four-footed  and  the  other  a  buffet,  were  Rob's 
most  conspicuous  furniture.  A  shaving-strap 
hung  on  the  wall.  The  fire  was  out,  but  the 
trunk  of  a  tree,  charred  at  one  end,  showed  how 
he  heated  his  house.  He  made  a  fire  of  peat, 
and  on  it  placed  one  end  of  a  tree  trunk  that 
might  be  six  feet  long.  As  the  tree  burned  away 
it  was    pushed    farther   into   the  fireplace,  and  a 


The  Egyptian  41 

roaring  fire  could  always  be  got  by  kicking  pieces 
of  the  smouldering  wood  and  blowing  them  into 
flame  with  the  bellows.  When  Rob  saw  the  min- 
ister he  groaned  relief  and  left  his  loom.  He 
had  been  weaving,  his  teeth  clenched,  his  eyes  on 
fire,  for  seven  hours. 

"  I  wasna  fleid,"  little  Micah  said  to  the  neigh- 
bours afterwards,  "  to  gang  in  wi'  the  minister. 
He's  a  fine  man  that.  He  didna  ca'  my  father 
names.  Na,  he  said,  '  You're  a  brave  fellow, 
Rob,'  and  he  took  my  father's  hand,  he  did.  My 
father  was  shaking  after  his  fecht  wi'  the  drink, 
and,  says  he,  '  Mr.  Dishart,'  he  says,  '  if  you'll 
let  me  break  out  nows  and  nans,  I  could  bide 
straucht  atween  times,  but  I  canna  keep  sober  if 
I  hinna  a  drink  to  look  forrit  to.'  Ay,  my  father 
prigged  sair  to  get  one  fou  day  in  the  month,  and 
he  said,  '  Syne  if  I  die  sudden,  there's  thirty 
chances  to  one  that  I  gang  to  heaven,  so  it's 
worth  risking.'  But  Mr.  Dishart  wouldna  hear 
o't,  and  he  cries,  '  No,  by  God,'  he  cries,  *  we'll 
wrestle  wi'  the  devil  till  we  throttle  him,'  and 
down  him  and  my  father  gaed  on  their  knees. 

"  The  minister  prayed  a  lang  time  till  my 
father  said  his  hunger  for  the  drink  was  gone, 
'  but,'  he  says,  '  it  swells  up  in  me  o'  a  sudden 
aye,  and  it  may  be  back  afore  you're  hame.' 
'  Then  come  to  me  at  once,'  says  Mr.  Dishart ; 
but  my  father  says,  '  Na,  for  it  would  haul  me 
into  the  public-house  as  if  it  had  me  at  the  end 
o'  a  rope,  but  I'll  send  the  laddie.' 

"  You  saw  my  father  crying  the  minister  back  ? 
It  was  to  gie  him  twa  pound,  and,  says  my  father, 
'  God  helping  me,'  he  says,  '  I'll  droon  mysel'  in 


42  The  Little  Minister 

the  dam  rather  than  let  the  drink  master  me,  but 
in  case  it  should  get  haud  o'  me  and  I  should  die 
drunk,  it  would  be  a  michty  gratification  to  me  to 
ken  that  you  had  the  siller  to  bury  me  respectable 
without  ony  help  frae  the  poor's  rates.'  The 
minister  wasna  for  taking  it  at  first,  but  he  took  it 
when  he  saw  how  earnest  my  father  was.  Ay, 
he's  a  noble  man.  After  he  gaed  awa  my  father 
made  me  learn  the  names  o'  the  apostles  frae  Luke 
sixth,  and  he  says  to  me,  *  Miss  out  Bartholo- 
mew,' he  says,  '  for  he  did  little,  and  put  Gavin 
Dishart  in  his  place.'  " 

Feeling  as  old  as  he  sometimes  tried  to  look, 
Gavin  turned  homeward.  Margaret  was  already 
listening  for  him.  You  may  be  sure  she  knew 
his  step.  I  think  our  steps  vary  as  much  as  the 
human  face.  My  bookshelves  were  made  by  a 
blind  man  who  could  identify  by  their  steps 
nearly  all  who  passed  his  window.  Yet  he  has 
admitted  to  me  that  he  could  not  tell  wherein 
my  steps  differ  from  others ;  and  this  I  believe, 
though  rejecting  his  boast  that  he  could  distin- 
guish a  minister's  step  from  a  doctor's,  and  even 
tell  to  which  denomination  the  minister  belonged. 

I  have  sometimes  asked  myself  what  would 
have  been  Gavin's  future  had  he  gone  straight 
home  that  night  from  Dow's.  He  would  doubt- 
less have  seen  the  Egyptian  before  morning  broke, 
but  she  would  not  have  come  upon  him  like  a 
witch.  There  are,  I  dare  say,  many  lovers  who 
would  never  have  been  drawn  to  each  other  had 
they  met  for  the  first  time,  as,  say,  they  met  the 
second  time.  But  such  dreaming  is  to  no  purpose. 
Gavin  met  Sanders  Webster,  the  mole-catcher,  and 


The  Egyptian  43 

was  persuaded  bv  him  to  go  home  by  Caddam 
Wood. 

Gavin  took  the  path  to  Caddam,  because 
Sanders  told  him  the  Wild  Lindsays  were 
there,  a  gypsy  family  that  threatened  the  farmers 
by  day  and  danced  devilishly,  it  was  said,  at  night. 
The  little  minister  knew  them  by  repute  as  a  race 
of  giants,  and  that  not  many  persons  would  have 
cared  to  face  them  alone  at  midnight ;  but  he 
was  feeling  as  one  wound  up  to  heavy  duties,  and 
meant  to  admonish  them  severely. 

Sanders,  an  old  man  who  lived  with  his  sister 
Nanny  on  the  edge  of  the  wood,  went  with  him, 
and  for  a  time  both  were  silent.  But  Sanders 
had  something  to  say. 

"  Was  you  ever  at  the  Spittal,  Mr.  Dishart  ? " 
he  asked. 

"  Lord  Rintoul's  house  at  the  top  of  Glen 
Quharity  ?     No." 

"  Hae  you  ever  looked  on  a  lord  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Or  on  an  auld  lord's  young  leddyship  ?  I 
have." 

"What  is  she?" 

"  You  surely  ken  that  Rintoul's  auld,  and  is 
to  be  married  on  a  young  leddyship.  She's  no' 
a  leddyship  yet,  but  they're  to  be  married  soon, 
so  I  may  say  I've  seen  a  leddyship.  Ay,  an 
impressive  sicht.     It  was  yestreen." 

"  Is  there  a  great  difference  in  their  ages  ?  " 

"  As  muckle  as  atween  auld  Peter  Spens  and 
his  wife,  wha  was  saxteen  when  he  was  saxty, 
and  she  was  playing  at  dumps  in  the  street  when 
her  man  was  waiting  for  her  to  make  his  porridge. 


44  The   Little   Minister 

Ay,  sic  a  differ  doesna  suit  wi'  common  folk,  but 
of  course  earls  can  please  themsels.  Rintoul's  so 
fond  o'  the  leddyship  'at  is  to  be,  that  when  she 
was  at  the  school  in  Edinbury  he  wrote  to  her  ilka 
day.  Kaytherine  Crummie  telled  me  that,  and 
she  says  aince  you're  used  to  it,  writing  letters  is 
as  easy  as  skinning  moles.  I  dinna  ken  what 
they  can  write  sic  a  heap  about,  but  I  daur  say 
he  gies  her  his  views  on  the  Chartist  agitation  and 
the  potato  disease,  and  she'll  write  back  about  the 
romantic  sichts  o'  Edinbury  and  the  sermons  o' 
the  grand  preachers  she  hears.  Sal,  though,  thae 
grand  folk  has  no  religion  to  speak  o',  for  they're 
a'  English  kirk.  You're  no'  speiring  what  her 
leddyship  said  to  me.?  " 

"  What  did  she  say  ?  " 

"  Weel,  you  see,  there  was  a  dancing  ball  on, 
and  Kaytherine  Crummie  took  me  to  a  window 
whaur  I  could  stand  on  a  flower-pot  and  watch 
the  critturs  whirling  round  in  the  ball  like  teeto- 
tums. What's  mair,  she  pointed  out  the  leddy- 
ship that's  to  be  to  me,  and  I  just  glowered  at 
her,  for  thinks  I,  '  Take  your  fill,  Sanders,  and 
whaur  there's  lords  and  leddyships,  dinna  waste 
a  minute  on  colonels  and  honourable  misses  and 
sic  like  dirt.'  Ay,  but  what  wi'  my  een  blinking 
at  the  blaze  o'  candles,  I  lost  sicht  o'  her  till  all 
at  aince  somebody  says  at  my  lug,  '  Well,  my 
man,  and  who  is  the  prettiest  lady  in  the  room  ? ' 
Mr.  Dishart,  it  was  her  leddyship.  She  looked 
like  a  star." 

"  And  what  did  you  do  ?  " 

"  The  first  thing  I  did  was  to  fall  aff  the  flower- 
pot;  but  syne  I  came  to,  and  says  I,  wi'  a  polite 


The   Egyptian  45 

smirk,  '  I'm  thinking,  your  leddyship,*  says  I,  *  as 
you're  the  bonniest  yourself.'  " 

"  I  see  you  are  a  cute  man,  Sanders." 

"  Ay,  but  that's  no'  a'.  She  lauched  in  a  pleased 
way  and  tapped  me  wi'  her  fan,  and  says  she, '  Why 
do  you  think  me  the  prettiest  ? '  I  dinna  deny 
but  what  that  staggered  me,  but  I  thocht  a  min- 
ute, and  took  a  look  at  the  other  dancers  again, 
and  syne  I  says,  michty  sly  like,  '  The  other  led- 
dies,'  I  says,  '  has  sic  sma'  feet.'  " 

Sanders  stopped  here  and  looked  doubtingly  at 
Gavin. 

"  I  canna  make  up  my  mind,"  he  said,  "  whether 
she  liked  that,  for  she  rapped  my  knuckles  wi' 
her  fan  fell  sair,  and  aff  she  gaed.  Ay,  I  consulted 
Tammas  Haggart  about  it,  and  he  says,  '  The 
flirty  crittur,'  he  says.  What  would  you  say,  Mr. 
Dishart }  " 

Gavin  managed  to  escape  without  giving  an 
answer,  for  here  their  roads  separated.  He  did 
not  find  the  Wild  Lindsays,  however.  Children 
of  whim,  of  prodigious  strength  while  in  the  open, 
but  destined  to  wither  quickly  in  the  hot  air  of 
towns,  they  had  gone  from  Caddam,  leaving 
nothing  of  themselves  behind  but  a  black  mark 
burned  by  their  fires  into  the  ground.  Thus 
they  branded  the  earth  through  many  counties 
until  some  hour  when  the  spirit  of  wandering 
again  fell  on  them,  and  they  forsook  their  hearths 
with  as  httle  compunction  as  the  bird  leaves  its 
nest. 

Gavin  had  walked  quickly,  and  he  now  stood 
silently  in  the  wood,  his  hat  in  his  hand.  In 
the  moonlight  the  grass  seemed  tipped  with  hoar 


46  The   Little   Minister 

frost.  Most  of  the  beeches  were  already  bare, 
but  the  shoots,  clustering  round  them,  like  chil- 
dren at  their  mother's  skirts,  still  retained  their 
leaves  red  and  brown.  Among  the  pines  these 
leaves  were  as  incongruous  as  a  wedding-dress  at 
a  funeral.  Gavin  was  standing  on  grass,  but  there 
were  patches  of  heather  within  sight,  and  broom, 
and  the  leaf  of  the  blaeberry.  Where  the  beeches 
had  drawn  up  the  earth  with  them  as  they  grew, 
their  roots  ran  this  way  and  that,  slippery  to  the 
feet  and  looking  like  disinterred  bones.  A  squir- 
rel appeared  suddenly  on  the  charred  ground, 
looked  doubtfully  at  Gavin  to  see  if  he  was  grow- 
ing there,  and  then  glided  up  a  tree,  where  it  sat 
eyeing  him,  and  forgetting  to  conceal  its  shadow. 
Caddam  was  very  still.  At  long  intervals  came 
from  far  away  the  whack  of  an  axe  on  wood. 
Gavin  was  in  a  world  by  himself,  and  this  might 
be  some  one  breaking  into  it. 

The  mystery  of  woods  by  moonlight  thrilled 
the  little  minister.  His  eyes  rested  on  the  shin- 
ing roots,  and  he  remembered  what  had  been  told 
him  of  the  legend  of  Caddam,  how  once  on  a  time 
it  was  a  mighty  wood,  and  a  maiden  most  beauti- 
ful stood  on  its  confines,  panting  and  afraid,  for  a 
wicked  man  pursued  her  ;  how  he  drew  near,  and 
she  ran  a  little  way  into  the  wood,  and  he  followed 
her,  and  she  still  ran,  and  still  he  followed,  until 
both  were  for  ever  lost,  and  the  bones  of  her  pur- 
suer lie  beneath  a  beech,  but  the  lady  may  still  be 
heard  singing  in  the  woods  if  the  night  be  fine,  for 
then  she  is  a  glad  spirit,  but  weeping  when  there 
is  wild  wind,  for  then  she  is  but  a  mortal  seeking 
a  way  out  of  the  wood. 


The   Egyptian  47 

The  squirrel  slid  down  the  fir  and  was  gone. 
The  axe's  blows  ceased.  Nothing  that  moved 
was  in  sight.  The  wind  that  has  its  nest  in  trees 
was  circling  round  with  many  voices,  that  never 
rose  above  a  whisper,  and  were  often  but  the  echo 
of  a  sigh. 

Gavin  was  in  the  Caddam  of  past  days,  where 
the  beautiful  maiden  wanders  ever,  waiting  for 
him  who  is  so  pure  that  he  may  find  her.  He 
will  wander  over  the  tree-tops  looking  for  her, 
with  the  moon  for  his  lamp,  and  some  night  he 
will  hear  her  singing.  The  little  minister  drew  a 
deep  breath,  and  his  foot  snapped  a  brittle  twig. 
Then  he  remembered  who  and  where  he  was,  and 
stooped  to  pick  up  his  staff.  But  he  did  not 
pick  it  up,  for  as  his  fingers  were  closing  on  it 
the  lady  began  to  sing. 

For  perhaps  a  minute  Gavin  stood  stock-still, 
like  an  intruder.  Then  he  ran  towards  the  sing- 
ing, which  seemed  to  come  from  Windy  ghoul,  a 
straight  road  through  Caddam  that  farmers  use 
in  summer,  but  leave  in  the  back  end  of  the  year 
to  leaves  and  pools.  In  Windyghoul  there  is 
either  no  wind  or  so  much  that  it  rushes  down 
the  sieve  like  an  army,  entering  with  a  shriek  of 
terror,  and  escaping  with  a  derisive  howl.  The 
moon  was  crossing  the  avenue.  But  Gavin  only 
saw  the  singer. 

She  was  still  fifty  yards  away,  sometimes  sing- 
ing gleefully,  and  again  letting  her  body  sway 
lightly  as  she  came  dancing  up  Windyghoul. 
Soon  she  was  within  a  few  feet  of  the  little  minis- 
ter, to  whom  singing,  except  when  out  of  tune, 
was  a  suspicious  thing,  and  dancing  a  device  of 


48  The   Little   Minister 

the  devil.  His  arm  went  out  wrathfully,  and 
his  intention  was  to  pronounce  sentence  on  this 
woman. 

But  she  passed,  unconscious  of  his  presence, 
and  he  had  not  moved  nor  spoken.  Though 
really  of  the  average  height,  she  was  a  little  thing 
to  the  eyes  of  Gavin,  who  always  felt  tall  and 
stout  except  when  he  looked  down.  The  grace 
of  her  swaying  figure  w^as  a  new  thing  in  the 
world  to  him.  Only  while  she  passed  did  he  see 
her  as  a  gleam  of  colour,  a  gypsy  elf  poorly  clad, 
her  bare  feet  flashing  beneath  a  short  green  skirt, 
a  twig  of  rowan  berries  stuck  carelessly  into  her 
black  hair.  Her  face  was  pale.  She  had  an 
angel's  loveliness.     Gavin   shook. 

Still  she  danced  onwards,  but  she  was  very 
human,  for  when  she  came  to  muddy  water  she 
let  her  feet  linger  in  it,  and  flung  up  her  arms, 
dancing  more  wantonly  than  before.  A  diamond 
on  her  finger  shot  a  thread  of  fire  over  the  pool. 
Undoubtedly  she  was  the  devil. 

Gavin  leaped  into  the  avenue,  and  she  heard  him 
and  looked  behind.  He  tried  to  cry  "  Woman  !  " 
sternly,  but  lost  the  word,  for  now  she  saw  him, 
and  laughed  with  her  shoulders,  and  beckoned  to 
him,  so  that  he  shook  his  fist  at  her.  She  tripped 
on,  but  often  turning  her  head  beckoned  and 
mocked  him,  and  he  forgot  his  dignity  and  his 
pulpit  and  all  other  things,  and  ran  after  her. 
Up  Windyghoul  did  he  pursue  her,  and  it  was 
well  that  the  precentor  was  not  there  to  see.  She 
reached  the  mouth  of  the  avenue,  and,  kissing  her 
hand  to  Gavin,  so  that  the  ring  gleamed  again, 
was  gone. 


The   Egyptian  49 

The  minister's  one  thought  was  to  find  her, 
but  he  searched  in  vain.  She  might  be  crossing 
the  hill  on  her  way  to  Thrums,  or  perhaps  she 
was  still  laughing  at  him  from  behind  a  tree. 
After  a  longer  time  than  he  was  aware  of,  Gavin 
realised  that  his  boots  were  chirping  and  his 
trousers  streaked  with  mud.  Then  he  abandoned 
the  search  and  hastened  homewards  in   a  rage. 

From  the  hill  to  the  manse  the  nearest  way  is 
down  two  fields,  and  the  little  minister  descended 
them  rapidly.  Thrums,  which  is  red  in  daylight, 
was  gray  and  still  as  the  cemetery.  He  had 
glimpses  of  several  of  its  deserted  streets.  To 
the  south  the  watch-light  showed  brightly,  but 
no  other  was  visible.  So  it  seemed  to  Gavin, 
and  then  —  suddenly  —  he  lost  the  power  to 
move.  He  had  heard  the  horn.  Thrice  it 
sounded,  and  thrice  it  struck  him  to-  the  heart. 
He  looked  again  and  saw  a  shadow  stealing  along 
the  Tenements,  then  another,  then  half  a  dozen. 
He  remembered  Mr.  Carfrae's  words,  "If  you 
ever  hear  that  horn,  I  implore  you  to  hasten  to 
the  square,"  and  in  another  minute  he  had  reached 
the  Tenements. 

Now  again  he  saw  the  gypsy.  She  ran  past 
him,  half  a  score  of  men,  armed  with  staves  and 
pikes,  at  her  heels.  At  first  he  thought  they 
were  chasing  her,  but  they  were  following  her  as 
a  leader.  Her  eyes  sparkled  as  she  waved  them 
to  the  square  with  her  arms, 

"  The  soldiers,  the  soldiers  !  "  was  the  universal 
cry. 

"Who  is  that  woman?"  demanded  Gavin, 
catching  hold  of  a  frightened  old  man. 


so 


The   Little   Minister 


"  Curse  the  Egyptian  hmmer,"  the  man 
answered,  "  she's  egging  my  laddie  on  to  fecht." 

"  Bless  her  rather,"  the  son  cried,  "  for  warn- 
ing us  that  the  sojers  is  coming.  Put  your  ear 
to  the  ground,  Mr.  Dishart,  and  you'll  hear  the 
dirl  o'  their  feet." 

The  young  man  rushed  away  to  the  square, 
flinging  his  father  from  him.  Gavin  followed. 
As  he  turned  into  the  school  wynd,  the  town 
drum  began  to  beat,  windows  were  thrown  open, 
and  sullen  men  ran  out  of  closes  where  women 
were  screaming  and  trying  to  hold  them  back. 
At  the  foot  of  the  wynd  Gavin  passed  Sanders 
Webster. 

"  Mr.  Dishart,"  the  mole-catcher  cried,  "  hae 
you  seen  that  Egyptian  ?  May  I  be  struck  dead 
if  it's  no'  her  little  leddyship." 

But  Gavin  did  not  hear  him. 


CHAPTER  V 

A      WARLIKE       CHAPTER,       CULMINATING       IN      THE 
FLOUTING    OF    THE    MINISTER    BY    THE    WOMAN 

MR.  DISHART!" 
Jean  had  clutched  at  Gavin  in  Bank 
Street.     Her  hair  was  streaming,  and  her  wrapper 
but  half  buttoned. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Dishart,  look  at  the  mistress  !  I 
couldna  keep  her  in  the  manse." 

Gavin  saw  his  mother  beside  him,  bareheaded, 
trembling. 

"  How  could  I  sit  still,  Gavin,  and  the  town 
full  o'  the  skirls  of  women  and  bairns  ^  Oh, 
Gavin,  what  can  I  do  for  them  ?  They  will 
suffer  most  this  night." 

As  Gavin  took  her  hand  he  knew  that  Mar- 
garet felt  for  the  people  more  than  he. 

"  But  you  must  go  home,  mother,"  he  said, 
"  and  leave  me  to  do  my  duty.  I  will  take  you 
myself  if  you  will  not  go  with  Jean.  Be  careful 
of  her,  Jean." 

"  Ay,  will  I,"  Jean  answered,  then  burst  into 
tears.  "  Mr.  Dishart,"  she  cried,  "  if  they  take 
my  father  they'd  best  take  my  mither,  too." 

The  two  women  went  back  to  the  manse,  where 
Jean  re-lit  the  fire,  having  nothing  else  to  do, 
and  boiled  the  kettle,  while  Margaret  wandered 
in   anguish  from  room  to  room. 

51 


52 


The  Little  Minister 


Men  nearly  naked  ran  past  Gavin,  seeking 
to  escape  from  Thrums  by  the  fields  he  had 
descended.  When  he  shouted  to  them  they 
only  ran  faster.  A  Tillyloss  weaver  whom  he 
tried  to  stop  struck  him  savagely  and  sped  past 
to  the  square.  In  Bank  Street,  which  was 
full  of  people  at  one  moment  and  empty  the 
next,  the  minister  stumbled  over  old  Charles 
YuiU. 

"  Take  me  and  welcome,"  Yuill  cried,  mistak- 
ing Gavin  for  the  enemy.  He  had  only  one  arm 
through  the  sleeve  of  his  jacket,  and  his  feet  were 
bare. 

"  I  am  Mr.  Dishart.  Are  the  soldiers  already 
in  the  square,  Yuill  ^  " 

"  They'll  be  there  in  a  minute." 

The  man  was  so  weak  that  Gavin  had  to  hold 
him. 

"  Be  a  man,  Charles.  You  have  nothing  to 
fear.  It  is  not  such  as  you  the  soldiers  have 
come  for.  If  need  be,  I  can  swear  that  you  had 
not  the  strength,  even  if  you  had  the  will,  to  join 
in  the  weavers'  riot." 

"  For  Godsake,  Mr.  Dishart,"  Yuill  cried,  his 
hands  chattering  on  Gavin's  coat,  "  dinna  swear 
that.  My  laddie  was  in  the  thick  o'  the  riot ; 
and  if  he's  ta'en  there's  the  poor's-house  gaping 
for  Kitty  and  me,  for  1  couldna  weave  half  a  web 
a  week.  If  there's  a  warrant  agin  onybody  o' 
the  name  of  Yuill,  swear  it's  me;  swear  I'm  a 
desperate  character,  swear  I'm  michty  strong  for 
all  I  look  palsied ;  and  if  when  they  take  me,  my 
courage  breaks  down,  swear  the  mair,  swear  I 
confessed  my  guilt  to  you  on  the  Book." 


A  Warlike  Chapter  ^^ 

As  Yuill  spoke  the  quick  rub-a-dub  of  a  drum 
was  heard. 

"  The  soldiers  !  "  Gavin  let  go  his  hold  of 
the  old  man,  who  hastened  away  to  give  himself 

"  That's  no  the  sojers,"  said  a  woman  ;  "  it's 
the  folk  gathering  in  the  square.  This'll  be  a 
watery  Sabbath  in  Thrums." 

"  Rob  Dow,"  shouted  Gavin,  as  Dow  flung 
past  with  a  scythe  in  his  hand,  "  lay  down  that 
scythe." 

"  To  hell  wi'  religion  !  "  Rob  retorted,  fiercely  ; 
"  it  spoils  a'  thing." 

"  Lay  down  that  scythe ;   I  command  you." 

Rob  stopped  undecidedly,  then  cast  the  scythe 
from  him,  but  its  rattle  on  the  stones  was  more 
than  he  could  bear. 

"  I  winna,"  he  cried,  and,  picking  it  up,  ran  to 
the  square. 

An  upper  window  in  Bank  Street  opened,  and 
Doctor  McQueen  put  out  his  head.  He  was 
smoking  as  usual. 

"  Mr.  Dishart,"  he  said,  "  you  will  return 
home  at  once  if  you  are  a  wise  man ;  or,  better 
still,  come  in  here.  You  can  do  nothing  with 
these  people  to-night." 

"  I  can  stop  their  fighting." 

"  You  will  only  make  black  blood  between 
them  and  you." 

"  Dinna  heed  him,  Mr.  Dishart,"  cried  some 
women. 

"  You  had  better  heed  him,"  cried  a  man. 

"  I  will  not  desert  my  people,"  Gavin  said. 

"  Listen,  then,  to  my  prescription,"  the  doctor 


54 


The   Little   Minister 


replied.  "  Drive  that  gypsy  lassie  out  of  the 
town  before  the  soldiers  reach  it.  She  is  firing 
the  men  to  a  red  heat  through  sheer  devilry." 

"  She  brocht  the  news,  or  we  would  have  been 
nipped  in  our  beds,"  some  people  cried. 

"  Does  any  one  know  who  she  is  ? "  Gavin 
demanded,  but  all  shook  their  heads.  The 
Egyptian,  as  they  called  her,  had  never  been 
seen  in  these  parts  before. 

"Has  any  other  person  seen  the  soldiers  .f"  " 
he  asked.     "  Perhaps  this  is  a  false  alarm." 

"  Several  have  seen  them  within  the  last  few 
minutes,"  the  doctor  answered.  "  They  came 
from  Tilliedrum,  and  were  advancing  on  us  from 
the  south,  but  when  they  heard  that  we  had  got 
the  alarm  they  stopped  at  the  top  of  the  brae, 
near  T'nowhead's  farm.  Man,  you  would  take 
these  things  more  coolly  if  you  smoked." 

"  Show  me  this  woman,"  Gavin  said,  sternly,  to 
those  who  had  been  listening.  Then  a  stream 
of  people  carried  him  into  the  square. 

The  square  has  altered  little,  even  in  these  days 
of  enterprise,  when  Tillyloss  has  become  Newton 
Bank,  and  the  Craft  Head  Croft  Terrace,  with 
enamelled  labels  on  them  for  the  guidance  of 
slow  people,  who  forget  their  address  and  have 
to  run  to  the  end  of  the  street  and  look  up  every 
time  they  write  a  letter.  The  stones  on  which 
the  butter-wives  sat  have  disappeared,  and  with 
them  the  clay  walls  and  the  outside  stairs.  Gone, 
too,  is  the  stair  of  the  town-house,  from  the  top 
of  which  the  drummer  roared  the  gossip  of  the 
week  on  Sabbaths  to  country  folk,  to  the  scandal 
of  all  who  knew  that  the  proper  thing  on  that 


A  Warlike  Chapter  5^ 

day  is  to  keep  your  blinds  down  ;  but  the  town- 
house  itself,  round  and  red,  still  makes  exit  to 
the  south  troublesome.  Wherever  streets  meet 
the  square  there  is  a  house  in  the  centre  of  them, 
and  thus  the  heart  of  Thrums  is  a  box,  in  which 
the  stranger  finds  himself  suddenly,  wondering  at 
first  how  he  is  to  get  out,  and  presently  how  he 
got  in. 

To  Gavin,  who  never  before  had  seen  a  score 
of  people  in  the  square  at  once,  here  was  a  sight 
strange  and  terrible.  Andrew  Struthers,  an  old 
soldier,  stood  on  the  outside  stair  of  the  town- 
house,  shouting  words  of  command  to  some 
fifty  weavers,  many  of  them  scantily  clad,  but 
all  armed  with  pikes  and  poles.  Most  were 
known  to  the  little  minister,  but  they  wore 
faces  that  were  new  to  him.  Newcomers  joined 
the  body  every  moment.  If  the  drill  was  clumsy 
the  men  were  fierce.  Hundreds  of  people  gath- 
ered found,  some  screaming,  some  shaking  their 
fists  at  the  old  soldier,  many  trying  to  pluck 
their  relatives  out  of  danger.  Gavin  could  not 
see  the  Egyptian.  Women  and  old  men,  fighting 
for  the  possession  of  his  ear,  implored  him  to 
disperse  the  armed  band.  He  ran  up  the  town- 
house  stair,  and  in  a  moment  it  had  become  a 
pulpit. 

"  Dinna  dare  to  interfere,  Mr.  Dishart," 
Struthers  said,  savagely. 

"  Andrew  Struthers,"  said  Gavin,  solemnly, 
"  in  the  name  of  God  I  order  you  to  leave 
me  alone.  If  you  don't,"  he  added,  ferociously, 
"  I'll  fling  you  over  the  stair." 

"Dinna  heed  him,  Andrew,"  some  one  shouted, 


56  The   Little   Minister 

and  another  cried,  "  He  canna  understand  our 
sufferings ;  he  has  dinner  ilka  day." 

Struthers  faltered,  however,  and  Gavin  cast 
his  eye  over  the  armed  men. 

"  Rob  Dow,"  he  said,  "  William  Carmichael, 
Thomas  Whamond,  William  Munn,  Alexander 
Hobart,  Renders  Haggart,  step  forward." 

These  were  Auld  Lichts,  and  when  they  found 
that  the  minister  would  not  take  his  eyes  off 
them,  they  obeyed,  all  save  Rob  Dow. 

"  Never  mind  him,  Rob,"  said  the  atheist, 
Cruickshanks,  "  it's  better  playing  cards  in  hell 
than  singing  psalms  in  heaven." 

"Joseph  Cruickshanks,"  responded  Gavin, 
grimly,  "  you  will  find  no    cards  down  there." 

Then  Rob  also  came  to  the  foot  of  the  stair. 
There  was  some  angry  muttering  from  the  crowd, 
and  young  Charles  Yuill  exclaimed,  "  Curse  you, 
would  you  lord  it  ower  us  on  week-days  as  weel 
as  on  Sabbaths  ?  " 

"  Lay  down  your  weapons,"  Gavin  said  to  the 
six  men. 

They  looked  at  each  other.  Hobart  slipped 
his  pike  behind  his  back. 

"  I  hae  no  weapon,"  he  said,  slily. 

"  Let  me  hae  my  fling  this  nicht,"  Dow 
entreated,  "and  I'll  promise  to  bide  sober  for 
a  twelvemonth." 

"  Oh,  Rob,  Rob  !  "  the  minister  said,  bitterly, 
"  are  you  the  man  I  prayed  with  a  few  hours 
ago?" 

The  scythe  fell  from  Rob's  hands. 

"  Down  wi'  your  pikes,"  he  roared  to  his  com- 
panions, "  or  I'll  brain  you  wi'  them." 


A  Warlike  Chapter  57 

"Ay,  lay  them  down,"  the  precentor  whispered, 
"  but  keep  your  feet  on  them." 

Then  the  minister,  who  was  shaking  with 
excitement,  though  he  did  not  know  it,  stretched 
forth  his  arms  for  silence,  and  it  came  so 
suddenly  as  to  frighten  the  people  in  the 
neighbouring  streets. 

"  If  he  prays  vve're  done  for,"  cried  young 
Charles  Yuill,  but  even  in  that  hour  many  of  the 
people  were  unbonneted. 

"Oh,  Thou  who  art  the  Lord  of  Hosts," 
Gavin  prayed,  "  we  are  in  Thy  hands  this  night. 
These  are  Thy  people,  and  they  have  sinned ; 
but  Thou  art  a  merciful  God,  and  they  were  sore 
tried,  and  knew  not  what  they  did.  To  Thee, 
our  God,  we  turn  for  deliverance,  for  without 
Thee  we  are  lost." 

The  little  minister's  prayer  was  heard  all  round 
the  square,  and  many  weapons  were  dropped  as 
an  Amen  to  it. 

"  If  you  fight,"  cried  Gavin,  brightening  as  he 
heard  the  clatter  of  the  iron  on  the  stones,  "  your 
wives  and  children  may  be  shot  in  the  streets. 
These  soldiers  have  come  for  a  dozen  of  you  ; 
will  you  be  benefited  if  they  take  away  a  hun- 
dred?" 

"  Oh,  hearken  to  him,"  cried  many  women. 

"  I  winna,"  answered  a  man,  "  for  I'm  ane  o' 
the  dozen.     Whaur's  the  Egyptian  ?  " 

"  Here." 

Gavin  saw  the  crowd  open,  and  the  woman  of 
Windyghoul  come  out  of  it,  and,  while  he  should 
have  denounced  her,  he  only  blinked,  for  once 
more  her  loveliness  struck  him  full  in  the  eyes. 


S' 


The  Little   Minister 


She  was  beside  him  on  the  stair  before  he  became 
a  minister  again. 

"  How  dare  you,  woman  ?  "  he  cried  ;  but  she 
flung  a  rowan  berry  at  him. 

"  If  I  were  a  man,"  she  exclaimed,  addressing 
the  people,  "  I  wouldna  let  myself  be  catched  like 
a  mouse  in  a  trap." 

"  We  winna,"  some  answered. 

"  What  kind  o'  women  are  you,"  cried  the 
Egyptian,  her  face  gleaming  as  she  turned  to  her 
own  sex,  "  that  bid  your  men-folk  gang  to  gaol 
when  a  bold  front  would  lead  them  to  safety? 
Do  you  want  to  be  husbandless  and  hameless  ?  " 

"  Disperse,  I  command  you  ! "  cried  Gavin. 
"  This  abandoned  woman  is  inciting  you  to 
riot." 

"  Dinna  heed  this  little  man,"  the  Egyptian 
retorted. 

It  is  curious  to  know  that  even  at  that  anxious 
moment  Gavin  winced  because  she  called  him 
little. 

"  She  has  the  face  of  a  mischief-maker,"  he 
shouted,  "  and  her  words  are  evil." 

"  You  men  and  women  o'  Thrums,"  she  re- 
sponded, "  ken  that  I  wish  you  weel  by  the  ser- 
vice I  hae  done  you  this  nicht.  Wha  telled  you 
the  sojers  was  coming  ?  " 

"  It  was  you  ;  it  was  you  !  " 

"  Ay,  and  mony  a  mile  I  ran  to  bring  the  news. 
Listen,  and  I'll  tell  you  mair." 

"  She  has  a  false  tongue,"  Gavin  cried ;  "  listen 
not  to  the  brazen  woman." 

"  What  I  have  to  tell,"  she  said,  "  is  as  true  as 
what  I've    telled  already,  and  how  true   that  is 


A  Warlike  Chapter  ^^ 

you  a'  ken.  You're  wondering  how  the  sojers 
has  come  to  a  stop  at  the  tap  o'  the  brae  instead 
o'  marching  on  the  town.  Here's  the  reason. 
They  agreed  to  march  straucht  to  the  square  if 
the  alarm  wasna  given,  but  if  it  was  they  were  to 
break  into  small  bodies  and  surround  the  town  so 
that  you  couldna  get  out.  That's  what  they're 
doing  now." 

At  this  the  screams  were  redoubled,  and  many 
men  lifted  the  weapons  they  had  dropped. 

"  Believe  her  not,"  cried  Gavin.  "  How  could 
a  wandering  gypsy  know  all  this  ?  " 

"  Ay,  how  can  you  ken  ?  "  some  demanded. 

"  It's  enough  that  I  do  ken,"  the  Egyptian  an- 
swered. "  And  this  mair  I  ken,  that  the  captain 
of  the  soldiers  is  confident  he'll  nab  every  one  o' 
you  that's  wanted  unless  you  do  one  thing." 

"  What  is  't  ?  " 

"  If  you  a'  run  different  ways  you're  lost,  but 
if  you  keep  thegither  you'll  be  able  to  force  a 
road  into  the  country  whaur  you  can  scatter. 
That's  what  he's  fleid  you'll  do." 

"  Then  it's  what  we  will  do." 

"  It  is  what  you  will  not  do,"  Gavin  said,  pas- 
sionately. "  The  truth  is  not  in  this  wicked 
woman." 

But  scarcely  had  he  spoken  when  he  knew  that 
startling  news  had  reached  the  square.  A  mur- 
mur arose  on  the  skirts  of  the  mob,  and  swept 
with  the  roar  of  the  sea  towards  the  town-house. 
A  detachment  of  the  soldiers  were  marching  down 
the  Roods  from  the  north. 

"  There's  some  coming  frae  the  east-town  end," 
was  the  next  intelligence ;  "  and  they've  gripped 


6o  The   Little   Minister 

Sanders  Webster,  and  auld  Cliarles  Yuill  has 
given  himsel'   up." 

"  You  see,  you  see,"  the  gypsy  said,  flashing 
triumph  at  Gavin. 

"  Lay  down  your  weapons,"  Gavin  cried,  but 
his  power  over  the  people  had  gone. 

"  The  Egyptian  spoke  true,"  they  shouted ; 
"  dinna  heed  the  minister." 

Gavin  tried  to  seize  the  gypsy  by  the  shoul- 
ders, but  she  sHpped  past  him  down  the  stair, 
and  crying  "Follow  me!"  ran  round  the  town- 
house  and  down  the  brae. 

"  Woman ! "  he  shouted  after  her,  but  she 
only  waved  her  arms  scornfully.  The  people 
followed  her,  many  of  the  men  still  grasping 
their  weapons,  but  all  in  disorder.  Within  a 
minute  after  Gavin  saw  the  gleam  of  the  ring 
on  her  finger,  as  she  waved  her  hands,  he  and 
Dow  were  alone  in  the  square. 

"  She's  an  awfu'  woman  that,"  Rob  said.  "  I 
saw  her  lauching." 

Gavin  ground  his  teeth. 

"  Rob  Dow,"  he  said,  slowly,  "  if  I  had  not 
found  Christ  I  would  have  throttled  that  woman. 
You  saw  how  she  flouted  me  ? " 


CHAPTER   VI 

IN    WHICH    THE    SOLDIERS    MEET    THE    AMAZONS 
OF    THRUMS 

DOW  looked  shamefacedly  at  the  minister, 
and  then  set  off  up   the  square. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Rob  ?  " 

"  To  gie  myself  up.  I  maun  do  something  to 
let  you  see  there's  one  man  in  Thrums  that  has 
mair  faith  in  you  than  in  a  fliskmahoy." 

"  And  only  one,  Rob.  But  I  don't  know  that 
they  want  to  arrest  you." 

"  Ay,  I  had  a  hand  in  tying  the  polissman  to 
the  —  " 

"  I  want  to  hear  nothing  about  that,"  Gavin 
said,  quickly. 

"  Will  I  hide,  then  ?  " 

"  I  dare  not  advise  you  to  do  that.  It  would 
be  wrong." 

Half  a  score  of  fugitives  tore  past  the  town- 
house,  and  were  out  of  sight  without  a  cry. 
There  was  a  tread  of  heavier  feet,  and  a  dozen 
soldiers,  with  several  policemen  and  two  pris- 
oners, appeared  suddenly  on  the  north  side  of 
the  square. 

"  Rob,"  cried  the  minister  in  desperation, 
"  run  ! " 

When  the  soldiers  reached  the  town-house, 
6i 


62  The  Little  Minister 

where  they  locked  up  their  prisoners,  Dow  was 
skulking  eastward,  and  Gavin  running  down  the 
brae. 

"  They're  fechting,"  he  was  told,  "  they're 
fechting  on  the  brae,  the  sojers  is  firing,  a  man's 
killed  !  " 

But  this  was  an  exaggeration. 

The  brae,  though  short,  is  very  steep.  There 
is  a  hedge  on  one  side  of  it,  from  which  the 
land  falls  away,  and  on  the  other  side  a  hillock. 
Gavin  reached  the  scene  to  see  the  soldiers  march- 
ing down  the  brae,  guarding  a  small  body  of 
policemen.  The  armed  weavers  were  retreating 
before  them.  A  hundred  women  or  more  were 
on  the  hillock,  shrieking  and  gesticulating.  Gavin 
joined  them,  calling  on  them  not  to  fling  the 
stones  they  had  begun  to  gather. 

The  armed  men  broke  into  a  rabble,  flung 
down  their  weapons,  and  fled  back  towards  the 
town-house.  Here  they  almost  ran  against  the 
soldiers  in  the  square,  who  again  forced  them  into 
the  brae.  Finding  themselves  about  to  be  wedged 
between  the  two  forces,  some  crawled  through  the 
hedge,  where  they  were  instantly  seized  by  police- 
men. Others  sought  to  climb  up  the  hillock  and 
then  escape  into  the  country.  The  policemen 
clambered  after  them.  The  men  were  too  fright- 
ened to  fight,  but  a  woman  seized  a  policeman  by 
the  waist  and  flung  him  head  foremost  among  the 
soldiers.  One  of  these  shouted  "  Fire  !  "  but 
the  captain  cried  "  No."  Then  came  showers 
of  missiles  from  the  women.  They  stood  their 
ground  and  defended  the  retreat  of  the  scared 
men. 


The  Amazons  of  Thrums.  6^ 

Who  flung  the  first  stone  is  not  known,  but  it 
is  beHeved  to  have  been  the  Egyptian.  The 
pohcemen  were  recalled,  and  the  whole  body 
ordered  to  advance  down  the  brae.  Thus  the 
weavers  who  had  not  escaped  at  once  were  driven 
before  them,  and  soon  hemmed  in  between  the 
two  bodies  of  soldiers,  when  they  were  easily 
captured.  But  for  two  minutes  there  was  a  thick 
shower  of  stones  and  clods  of  earth. 

It  was  ever  afterwards  painful  to  Gavin  to 
recall  this  scene,  but  less  on  account  of  the 
shower  of  stones  than  because  of  the  flight  of 
one  divit  in  it.  He  had  been  watching  the 
handsome  young  captain,  Halliwell,  riding  with 
his  men ;  admiring  him,  too,  for  his  coolness. 
This  coolness  exasperated  the  gypsy,  who  twice 
flung  at  Halliwell  and  missed  him.  He  rode  on, 
smiling  contemptuously. 

"  Oh,  if  I  could  only  fling  straight ! "  the 
Egyptian  moaned. 

Then  she  saw  the  minister  by  her  side,  and  in 
the  tick  of  a  clock  something  happened  that  can 
never  be  explained.  For  the  moment  Gavin  was 
so  lost  in  misery  over  the  probable  effect  of  the 
night's  rioting  that  he  had  forgotten  where  he 
was.  Suddenly  the  Egyptian's  beautiful  face  was 
close  to  his,  and  she  pressed  a  divit  into  his  hand, 
at  the  same  time  pointing  at  the  officer,  and 
whispering  "  Hit   him." 

Gavin  flung  the  clod  of  earth,  and  hit  Halli- 
well on  the  head. 

I  say  I  cannot  explain  this.  I  tell  what  hap- 
pened, and  add  with  thankfulness  that  only  the 
Egyptian  witnessed  the  deed.     Gavin,  I  suppose, 


64  The   Little   Minister 

had  flung  the  divit  before  he  could  stay  his  hand. 
Then  he  shrank  in  horror. 

"  Woman  !  "   he  cried  again. 

"  You  are  a  dear,"  she  said,  and  vanished. 

By  the  time  Gavin  was  breathing  freely  again 
the  lock-up  was  crammed  with  prisoners,  and  the 
Riot  Act  had  been  read  from  the  town-house 
stair.  It  is  still  remembered  that  the  baron- 
bailie,  to  whom  this  duty  fell,  had  got  no  further 
than  "  Victoria,  by  the  Grace  of  God,"  when  the 
paper  was  struck  out  of  his  hands. 

When  a  stirring  event  occurs  up  here  we  smack 
our  lips  over  it  for  months,  and  so  I  could  still 
write  a  history  of  that  memorable  night  in  Thrums. 
I  could  tell  how  the  doctor,  a  man  whose  shoul- 
ders often  looked  as  if  thev  had  been  caught  in  a 
shower  of  tobacco  ash,  brought  me  the  news  to 
the  schoolhouse,  and  now,  when  I  crossed  the 
fields  to  dumfounder  Waster  Lunny  with  it,  1 
found  Birse,  the  post,  reeling  off  the  story  to  him 
as  fast  as  a  fisher  could  let  out  line.  I  know  who 
was  the  first  woman  on  the  Marywell  brae  to 
hear  the  horn,  and  how  she  woke  her  husband, 
and  who  heard  it  first  at  the  Denhead  and  the 
Tenements,  with  what  they  immediately  said  and 
did.  I  had  from  Dite  Deuchar's  own  lips  the 
curious  story  of  his  sleeping  placidly  throughout 
the  whole  disturbance,  and  on  wakening  in  the 
morning  yoking  to  his  loom  as  usual ;  and  also 
his  statement  that  such  ill  luck  was  enough  to 
shake  a  man's  faith  in  religion.  The  police  had 
knowledge  that  enabled  them  to  go  straight  to 
the  houses  of  the  weavers  wanted,  but  they  some- 
times brought  away  the  wrong  man,  for  such  of 


The  Amazons  of  Thrums  6^ 

the  people  as  did  not  escape  from  the  town  had 
swopped  houses  for  the  night,  —  a  trick  that 
served  them  better  than  all  their  drilling  on  the 
hill.  Old  Yuill's  son  escaped  by  burying  himself 
in  a  peat-rick,  and  Snecky  Hobart  by  pretending 
that  he  was  a  sack  of  potatoes.  Less  fortunate 
was  Sanders  Webster,  the  mole-catcher  already 
mentioned.  Sanders  was  really  an  innocent  man. 
He  had  not  even  been  in  Thrums  on  the  night 
of  the  rising  against  the  manufacturers,  but  think- 
ing that  the  outbreak  was  to  be  left  unpunished, 
he  wanted  his  share  in  the  glory  of  it.  So  he 
had  boasted  of  being  a  ringleader  until  many 
believed  him,  including  the  authorities.  His 
braggadocio  undid  him.  He  was  run  to  earth 
in  a  pig-sty,  and  got  nine  months.  With  the 
other  arrests  I  need  not  concern  myself,  for  they 
have  no  part  in  the  story  of  the  little  minister. 

While  Gavin  was  with  the  families  whose 
breadwinners  were  now  in  the  lock-up,  a  cell  that 
was  usually  crammed  on  fair  nights  and  empty 
for  the  rest  of  the  year,  the  sheriff  and  Halliwell 
were  in  the  round-room  of  the  town-house,  not 
in  a  good  temper.  They  spoke  loudly,  and  some 
of  their  words  sank  into  the  cell  below. 

"  The  whole  thing  has  been  a  fiasco,"  the 
sheriff  was  heard  saying,  "  owing  to  our  failing 
to  take  them  by  surprise.  Why,  three-fourths 
of  those  taken  will  have  to  be  liberated,  and  we 
have  let  the  worst  offenders  slip  through  our 
hands." 

"Well,"  answered  Halliwell,  who  was  wearing 
a  heavy  cloak,  "  I  have  brought  your  policemen 
into  the  place,  and  that  is  all  I  undertook  to  do." 


66  The   Little   Minister 

"  You  brought  them,  but  at  the  expense  of 
alarming  the  country-side.  I  wish  we  had  come 
without  you." 

"  Nonsense  !  My  men  advanced  like  ghosts. 
Could  your  police  have  come  down  that  brae 
alone  to-night?  " 

"  Yes,  because  it  would  have  been  deserted. 
Your  soldiers,  I  tell  you,  have  done  the  mischief. 
This  woman,  who,  so  many  of  our  prisoners 
admit,  brought  the  news  of  our  coming,  must 
either  have  got  it  from  one  of  your  men  or  have 
seen  them  on  the  march." 

"  The  men  did  not  know  their  destination. 
True,  she  might  have  seen  us  despite  our  pre- 
cautions, but  you  forget  that  she  told  them  how 
we  were  to  act  in  the  event  of  our  being  seen. 
That  is  what  perplexes  me." 

"  Yes,  and  me  too,  for  it  was  a  close  secret 
between  you  and  me  and  Lord  Rintoul  and  not 
half  a  dozen  others." 

"  Well,  find  the  woman,  and  we  shall  get  the 
explanation.  If  she  is  still  in  the  town  she  can- 
not escape,  for  my  men  are  everywhere." 

"  She  was  seen  ten  minutes  ago." 

"  Then  she  is  ours.  I  say,  Riach,  if  I  were 
you  I  would  set  all  my  prisoners  free  and  take 
away  a  cartload  of  their  wives  instead.  I  have 
only  seen  the  backs  of  the  men  of  Thrums,  but, 
on  my  word,  I  very  nearly  ran  away  from  the 
women.  Hallo  !  1  believe  one  of  your  police 
has  caught  our  virago  single-handed." 

So  Halliwell  exclaimed,  hearing  some  one 
shout,  "  This  is  the  rascal !  "  But  it  was  not 
the    Egyptian    who    was    then    thrust    into    the 


The  Amazons  ot  Thrums  67 

round-room.  It  was  John  Dunwoodle,  looking 
very  sly.  Probably  there  was  not,  even  in 
Thrums,  a  cannier  man  than  Dunwoodie.  His 
religious  views  were  those  of  Cruickshanks,  but 
he  went  regularly  to  church  "  on  the  ofF-chance 
of  there  being  a  God  after  all ;  so  I'm  safe,  what- 
ever side  may  be  wrong." 

"  This  is  the  man,"  explained  a  policeman, 
"who  brought  the  alarm.  He  admits  himself 
having  been  in  Tilliedrum  just  before  we  started." 

"Your  name,  mv  man  ?  "  the  sheriff  demanded. 

"  It  micht  be  John  Dunwoodie,"  the  tinsmith 
answered,  cautiously. 

"But  is  it?" 

"  I  dinna  say  it's  no." 

"  You  were  in  Tilliedrum  this  evening  ?  " 

"  I  micht  hae  been." 

"  Were  you  ?  " 

"  I'll  swear  to  nothing." 

"Why*  not?" 

"  Because  I'm  a  canny  man." 

"  Into  the  cell  with  him,"  Halliwell  cried,  los- 
ing patience. 

"  Leave  him  to  me,"  said  the  sheriff.  "  I 
understand  the  sort  of  man.  Now,  Dunwoodie, 
what  were  you  doing  in  Tilliedrum  ?  " 

"  I  was  taking  my  laddie  down  to  be  prenticed 
to  a  writer  there,"  answered  Dunwoodie,  falling 
into  the  sheriff's  net. 

"  What  are  you  yourself?  " 

"  I  micht  be  a  tinsmith  to  trade." 

"  And  you,  a  mere  tinsmith,  dare  to  tell  me 
that  a  lawyer  was  willing  to  take  your  son  into 
his  office  ?      Be  cautious,  Dunwoodie." 


68  The   Little   Minister 

"  Weel,  then,  the  laddie's  highly  edicated  and 
I  hae  siller,  and  that's  how  the  writer  was  to  take 
him  and  make  a  gentleman  o'  him." 

"  I  learn  trom  the  neighbours,"  the  policeman 
explained,  "  that  this  is  partly  true,  but  what 
makes  us  suspect  him  is  this :  He  left  the  laddie 
at  Tilliedrum,  and  yet  when  he  came  home  the 
first  person  he  sees  at  the  fireside  is  the  laddie 
himself.  The  laddie  had  run  home,  and  the 
reason  plainly  was  that  he  had  heard  of  our 
preparations  and  wanted  to  alarm  the  town." 

"  There  seems  something  in  this,  Dunwoodie," 
the  sheriff  said,  "  and  if  you  cannot  explain  it  I 
must  keep  you  in  custody." 

"  I'll  make  a  clean  breast  o't,"  Dunwoodie 
replied,  seeing  that  in  this  matter  truth  was  best. 
"  The  laddie  was  terrible  against  being  made  a 
gentleman,  and  when  he  saw  the  kind  o'  life  he 
would  hae  to  lead,  clean  hands,  clean  dickies,  and 
no  gutters  on  his  breeks,  his  heart  took  mair 
scunner  at  genteelity  than  ever,  and  he  ran  hame. 
Ay,  I  was  mad  when  I  saw  him  at  the  fireside, 
but  he  says  to  me,  '  How  would  you  like  to  be  a 
gentleman  yoursel',  father? '  he  says,  and  that  so 
afiected  me  'at  I'm  to  gie  him  his  ain  way." 

Another  prisoner,  Dave  Langlands,  was  con- 
fronted with  Dunwoodie. 

"John  Dunwoodie's  as  innocent  as  I  am 
mysel',"  Dave  said,  "  and  I'm  most  michty  inno- 
cent. It  wasna  John  but  the  Egyptian  that  gave 
the  alarm.  I  tell  you  what,  sheriff,  if  it'll  make 
me  innocenter-like  I'll  picture  the  Egyptian  to 
you  just  as  I  saw  her,  and  syne  you'll  be  able 
to  catch  her  easier." 


The  Amazons  of  Thrums  69 

"  You  are  an  honest  fellow,"  said  the  sheriff. 

"  I  only  wish  I  had  the  whipping  of  him," 
growled  Halliwell,  who  was  of  a  generous 
nature. 

"  For  what  business  had  she,"  continued  Dave, 
righteously,  "  to  meddle  in  other  folks'  business  ? 
She's  no  a  Thrums  lassie,  and  so  I  say,  *  Let  the 
law  take  its  course  on  her.'  " 

"  Will  you  listen  to  such  a  cur,  Riach  ?  "  asked 
Halliwell. 

"  Certainly.     Speak  out,  Langlands." 

"  Weel,  then,  I  was  in  the  windmill  the  nicht." 

"  You  were  a  watcher  ?  " 

"  I  happened  to  be  in  the  windmill  wi' 
another  man,"  Dave  went  on,  avoiding  the 
officer's  question. 

"  What  was  his  name  ?  "  demanded  Halliwell. 

"It  was  the  Egyptian  I  was  to  tell  you  about," 
Dave  said,  looking  to  the  sheriff. 

"  Ah,  yes,  you  only  tell  tales  about  women," 
said  Halliwell. 

"  Strange  women,"  corrected  Dave.  "  Weel, 
we  was  there,  and  it  would  maybe  be  twal 
o'clock,  and  we  was  speaking  (but  about  lawful 
things)  when  we  heard  some  ane  running  yont 
the  road.  I  keeked  through  a  hole  in  the  door, 
and  I  'saw  it  was  an  Egyptian  lassie  'at  I  had 
never  clapped  een  on  afore.  She  saw  the  licht  in 
the  window,  and  she  cried, '  Hie,  you  billies  in  the 
windmill,  the  sojers  is  coming!'  I  fell  in  a  fricht, 
but  the  other  man  opened  the  door,  and  again 
she  cries,  '  The  sojers  is  coming  ;  quick,  or  you'll 
be  ta'en.'  At  that  the  other  man  up  wi'  his 
bonnet  and  ran,  but  I  didna  make  off  so  smart." 


70  The  Little  Minister 

"  You  liad  to  pick  yourself  up  first,"  suggested 
the  officer. 

"  Sal,  it  was  the  lassie  picked  me  up  ;  ay,  and 
she  picked  up  a  horn  at  the  same  time." 

"  '  Blaw  on  that,'  she  cried,  '  and  alarm  the 
town.'  But,  sheriff,  I  didna  do't.  Na,  I  had 
ower  muckle  respect  for  the  law." 

"  In  other  words,"  said  Halliwell,  "  you  also 
bolted,  and  left  the  gypsy  to  blow  the  horn 
herself." 

"  I  dinna  deny  but  what  I  made  my  feet  my 
friend,  but  it  wasna  her  that  blew  the  horn.  I 
ken  that,  for  I  looked  back  and  saw  her  trying  to 
do't,  but  she  couldna,  she  didna  ken  the  way." 

"  Then  who  did  blow  it  ?  " 

"  The  first  man  she  met,  I  suppose.  We  a' 
kent  that  the  horn  was  to  be  the  signal  except 
Weary warld.  He's  police,  so  we  kept  it  frae 
him." 

"  That  is  all  you  saw  of  the  woman  ?  " 

"  Ay,  for  I  ran  straucht  to  my  garret,  and 
there  your  men  took  me.  Can  I  gae  hame 
now,  sheriff?" 

"  No,  you  cannot.  Describe  the  woman's 
appearance." 

"  She  had  a  heap  o'  rowan  berries  stuck  in  her 
hair,  and,  1  think,  she  had  on  a  green  wrapper 
and  a  red  shawl.  She  had  a  most  extraordinary 
face.  I  canna  exact  describe  it,  for  she  would  be 
lauchin'  one  second  and  syne  solemn  the  next.  I 
tell  you  her  face  changed  as  quick  as  you  could 
turn  the  pages  o'  a  book.  Ay,  here  comes 
Wearywarld  to  speak  up  for  me." 

Wearyworld  entered  cheerfully. 


The  Amazons  of  Thrums  71 

"  This  is  the  local  policeman,"  a  Tilliedrum 
officer  said  ;  "  we  have  been  searching  for  him 
everywhere,  and  only  found  him  now." 

"Where  have  you  been  ?"  asked  the  sheriff, 
wrathfully. 

"  Whaur  maist  honest  men  is  at  this  hour," 
replied  Weary  world  ;  "  in  my  bed." 

"  How  dared  you  ignore  your  duty  at  such  a 
time  ?  " 

"  It's  a  long  story,"  the  policeman  answered, 
pleasantly,  in  anticipation  of  a  talk  at  last. 

"  Answer  me  in  a  word." 

"  In  a  word  !  "  cried  the  policeman,  quite  crest- 
fallen. "  It  canna  be  done.  You'll  need  to 
cross-examine  me,  too.       It's   my  lawful   richt." 

"  I'll  take  you  to  the  Tilliedrum  gaol  for  your 
share  in  this  night's  work  if  you  do  not  speak  to 
the  purpose.  Why  did  you  not  hasten  to  our 
assistance  ?  " 

"  As  sure  as  death  I  never  kent  you  was  here. 
I  was  up  the  Roods  on  my  rounds  when  I  heard 
an  awfu'  din  down  in  the  square,  and  thinks  I, 
there's  rough  characters  about,  and  the  place  for 
honest  folk  is  their  bed.  So  to  my  bed  I 
gaed,  and  I  was  in't  when  your  men  gripped 
me." 

"  We  must  see  into  this  before  we  leave.  In 
the  meantime  you  will  act  as  a  guide  to  my 
searchers.  Stop  !  Do  you  know  anything  of 
this  Egyptian  .?  " 

"  What  Egyptian  ?  Is't  a  lassie  wi'  rowans 
in  her  hair  ?  " 

"  The  same.      Have  you  seen  her  ?  " 

"  That  I   have.     There's  nothing  agin  her,  is 


72  The   Little   Minister 

there?  Whatever  it  is,  I'll  uphaud  she  didna 
do't,  for  a  simpler,  franker-spoken  crittur  couldna 
be." 

"  Never  mind  what  I  want  her  for.  When 
did  you  see  her  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  about  twal  o'clock,"  began 
Wearyworld,  unctuously,  "  when  I  was  in  the 
Roods,  ay,  no  lang  afore  I  heard  the  disturbance 
in  the  square.  I  was  standing  in  the  middle  o' 
the  road,  wondering  how  the  door  o'  the  wind- 
mill was  swinging  open,  when  she  came  up  to  me. 

"  '  A  fine  nicht  for  the  time  o'  year,'  I  says  to 
her,  for  nobody  but  the  minister  had  spoken  to 
me  a'  day. 

" '  A  very  fine  nicht,'  says  she,  very  frank, 
though  she  was  breathing  quick  like  as  if  she 
had  been  running.     '  You'll  be  police  ? '  says  she. 

"  *  I  am,'  says  I,  '  and  wha  be  you  ? ' 

"  *  I'm  just  a  puir  gypsy  lassie,'  she  says. 

"'And  what's  that  in  your  hand  .f* '  says  I. 

"Mt's  a  horn  I  found  in  the  wood,'  says  she, 
'  but  it's  rusty  and  winna  blaw.' 

"  I  laughed  at  her  ignorance,  and  says  I,  '  I 
warrant  I  could  blaw  it.' 

" '  I  dinna  believe  you,'  says  she. 

" '  Gie  me  haud  o't,'  says  I,  and  she  gae  it  to 
me,  and  I  blew  some  bonny  blasts  on't.  Ay, 
you  see  she  didna  ken  the  way  o't.  '  Thank  you 
kindly,'  says  she,  and  she  ran  awa  without  even 
minding  to  take  the  horn  back  again." 

"  You  incredible  idiot ! "  cried  the  sheriff. 
"  Then  it  was  you  who  gave  the  alarm  ?  " 

"  What  hae  I  done  to  madden  you  ? "  honest 
Wearyworld  asked,  in  perplexity. 


The  Amazons  of  Thrums  73 

"  Get  out  of  my  sight,  sir  !  "  roared  the  sheriff. 

But  the  captain  laughed. 

"  I  Hke  your  doughty  poHceman,  Riach,"  he 
said.  "  Hie,  obhging  friend,  let  us  hear  how 
this  gypsy  struck  you.      How  was  she  dressed  ?  " 

"  She  was  snod,  but  no  unca  snod,"  replied 
Wearyworld,  stiffly. 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

"  I  mean  she  was  couthie,  but  no  sair  in  order." 

"  What  on  earth  is  that  ?  " 

"  Weel,  a  tasty  stocky,  but  gey  orra  put  on." 

"What  language  are  you  speaking,  you  enigma?" 

"  I'm  saying  she  was  naturally  a  bonny  bit 
kimmer  rather  than  happit  up  to  the  nines." 

"Oh,  go  away,"  cried  Halliwell;  whereupon 
Wearyworld  descended  the  stair  haughtily,  de- 
claring that  the  sheriff  was  an  unreasonable  man, 
and  that  he  was  a  queer  captain  who  did  not 
understand  the  English  language. 

"  Can  I  gae  hame  now,  sheriff?  "  asked  Lang- 
lands,  hopefully. 

"  Take  this  fellow  back  to  his  cell,"  Riach 
directed  shortly,  "  and  whatever  else  you  do,  see 
that  you  capture  this  woman.  Halliwell,  I  am 
going  out  to  look  for  her  myself.  Confound  it, 
what  are  you  laughing  at  ?  " 

"  At  the  way  this  vixen  has  slipped  through 
your  fingers." 

"  Not  quite  that,  sir,  not  quite  that.  She  is  in 
Thrums  still,  and  I  swear  I'll  have  her  before  day 
breaks.  See  to  it,  Halliwell,  that  if  she  is  brought 
here  in  my  absence  she  does  not  slip  through 
your  fingers." 

"  If  she  is  brought  here,"  said  Halliwell,  mock- 


74  The   Little   Minister 

ing  him,  "  you  must  return  and  protect  me.  It 
would  be  cruelty  to  leave  a  poor  soldier  in  the 
hands  of  a  woman  of  Thrums." 

"  She  is  not  a  Thrums  woman.  You  have 
been  told  so  a  dozen  times." 

"  Then  I  am  not  afraid." 

In  the  round-room  (which  is  oblong),  there  is 
a  throne  on  which  the  bailie  sits  when  he  dis- 
penses justice.  It  is  swathed  in  red  cloths  that 
give  it  the  appearance  of  a  pulpit.  Left  to  him- 
self, Halliwell  flung  off^  his  cloak,  and  taking  a 
chair  near  this  dais  rested  his  legs  on  the  bare 
wooden  table,  one  on  each  side  of  the  lamp.  He 
was  still  in  this  position  when  the  door  opened, 
and  two  policemen  thrust  the  Egyptian  into  the 
room. 


CHAPTER  VII 

HAS     THE     FOLLY     OF     LOOKING     INTO     A     WOMAN's 
EYES    BY    WAY    OF    TEXT 

"^T~^HIS  is  the  woman,  captain,"  one  of  the 
J^  poHcemen  said,  in  triumph  ;  "  and,  beg- 
ging your  pardon,  will  you  keep  a  grip  of  her  till 
the  sheriff  comes  back  ?  " 

Halliwell  did  not  turn  his  head. 

"  You  can  leave  her  here,"  he  said,  carelessly. 
"  Three  of  us  are  not  needed  to  guard  a  woman." 

"  But  she's  a  slippery  customer." 

"  You  can  go,"  said  Halliwell ;  and  the  police- 
men withdrew  slowly,  eyeing  their  prisoner  doubt- 
fully until  the  door  closed.  Then  the  officer 
wheeled  round  languidly,  expecting  to  find  the 
Egyptian  gaunt  and  muscular, 

"  Now  then,"  he  drawled,  "  why  —  By  Jove  !  " 

The  gallant  soldier  was  as  much  taken  aback  as 
if  he  had  turned  to  find  a  pistol  at  his  ear.  He 
took  his  feet  off  the  table.  Yet  he  only  saw  the 
gypsy's  girlish  figure  in  its  red  and  green,  for  she 
had  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  She  was 
looking  at  him  intently  between  her  fingers,  but 
he  did  not  know  this.  All  he  did  want  to  know 
just  then  was  what  was  behind  the  hands. 

Before  he  spoke  again  she  had  perhaps  made 
up  her  mind  about  him,  for  she  began   to   sob 

75 


76  The   Little   Minister 

bitterly.  At  the  same  time  she  slipped  a  finger 
over  her  ring. 

"  Why  don't  you  look  at  me  ?  "  asked  Halli- 
well,  selfishly. 

"  I  daurna." 

"  Am  I  so  fearsome  ?  " 

"  You're  a  sojer,  and  you  would  shoot  me  like 
a  craw," 

Halliwell  laughed,  and,  taking  her  wrists  in  his 
hands,  uncovered  her  face. 

"  Oh,  by  Jove  !  "  he  said  again,  but  this  time 
to  himself. 

As  for  the  Egyptian,  she  slid  the  ring  into  her 
pocket,  and  fell  back  before  the  officer's  magnifi- 
cence. 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  "  is  all  sojers  like  you  ?  " 

There  was  such  admiration  in  her  eyes  that 
it  would  have  been  self-contempt  to  doubt  her. 
Yet  having  smiled  complacently,  Halliwell  became 
uneasy. 

"  Who  on  earth  are  you  ?  "  he  asked,  finding  it 
wise  not  to  look  her  in  the  face.  "  Why  do  you 
not  answer  me  more  quickly  ?  " 

"  Dinna  be  angry  at  that,  captain,"  the  Egyp- 
tian implored.  "  I  promised  my  mither  aye  to 
count  twenty  afore  I  spoke,  because  she  thocht  I 
was  ower  glib.  Captain,  how  is't  that  you're  so 
fleid  to  look  at  me  ?  " 

Thus  put  on  his  mettle,  Halliwell  again  faced 
her,  with  the  result  that  his  question  changed  to 
"Where  did  you  get  those  eyes?"  Then  was 
he  indignant  with   himself 

"  What  I  want  to  know,"  he  explained,  severely, 
"  is  how  you  were  able  to  acquaint  the  Thrums 


A  Woman's   Eyes  77 

people  with  our  movements  ?  That  you  must 
tell  me  at  once,  for  the  sheriff  blames  my  soldiers. 
Come  now,  no  counting  twenty  !  " 

He  was  pacing  the  room  now,  and  she  had  her 
face  to  herself.  It  said  several  things,  among 
them  that  the  officer  evidently  did  not  like  this 
charge  against  his  men. 

"  Does  the  shirra  blame  the  sojers  ?  "  exclaimed 
this  quick-witted  Egyptian.  "  Weel,  that  cows, 
for  he  has  nane  to  blame  but  himsel'." 

"  What !  "  cried  Halliwell,  deHghted.  "  It  was 
the  sheriff  who  told  tales  ?  Answer  me.  You 
are  counting  a  hundred  this  time." 

Perhaps  the  gypsy  had  two  reasons  for  with- 
holding her  answer.  If  so,  one  of  them  was  that, 
as  the  sheriff  had  told  nothing,  she  had  a  story  to 
make  up.  The  other  was  that  she  wanted  to  strike 
a  bargain  with  the  officer. 

"  If  I  tell  -you,"  she  said,  eagerly,  "  will  you  set 
me  free  ^ " 

"  I  may  ask  the  sheriff  to  do  so." 

"  But  he  mauna  see  me,"  the  Egyptian  said,  in 
distress.     "  There's  reasons,  captain." 

"  Why,  surely  you  have  not  been  before  him 
on  other  occasions,"  said  Halliwell,  surprised. 

"  No  in  the  way  you  mean,"  muttered  the 
gypsy,  and  for  the  moment  her  eyes  twinkled. 
But  the  light  in  them  went  out  when  she  remem- 
bered that  the  sheriff  was  near,  and  she  looked 
desperately  at  the  window  as  if  ready  to  fling  her- 
self from  it.  She  had  very  good  reasons  for  not 
wishing  to  be  seen  by  Riach,  though  fear  that  he 
would  put  her  in  gaol  was  not  one  of  them. 

Halliwell  thought  it  was  the  one  cause  of  her 


78  The   Little   Minister 

woe,  and  great  was  his  desire  to  turn  the  tables  on 
the  sheriff. 

"  Tell  me  the  truth,"  he  said,  "  and  I  promise 
to  befriend  you." 

"  Weel,  then,"  the  gypsy  said,  hoping  still  to 
soften  his  heart,  and  making  up  her  story  as  she 
told  it,  "  yestreen  I  met  the  shirra,  and  he  telled 
me  a'  I  hae  telled  the  Thrums  folk  this  nicht." 

"  You  can  scarcely  expect  me  to  believe  that. 
Where  did  you  meet  him  ?  " 

"  In  Glen  Quharity.  He  was  riding  on  a 
horse." 

"  Well,  I  allow  he  was  there  yesterday,  and  on 
horseback.  He  was  on  his  way  back  to  Tillie- 
drum  from  Lord  Rintoul's  place.  But  don't 
tell  me  that  he  took  a  gypsy  girl  into  his 
confidence." 

"  Ay,  he  did,  without  kenning.  He  was  gieing 
his  horse  a  drink  when  1  met  him,  and  he  let  me 
tell  him  his  fortune.  He  said  he  would  gaol  me 
for  an  impostor  if  I  didna  tell  him  true,  so  I  gaed 
about  it  cautiously,  and  after  a  minute  or  twa  I 
telled  him  he  was  coming  to  Thrums  the  nicht  to 
nab  the  rioters." 

"  You  are  trifling  with  me,"  interposed  the  in- 
dignant soldier.  "  You  promised  to  tell  me  not 
what  you  said  to  the  sheriff,  but  how  he  disclosed 
our  movements  to  you." 

"  And  that's  just  what  I  am  telling  you,  only 
you  hinna  the  rumelgumption  to  see  it.  How 
do  you  think  fortunes  is  telled  ?  First  we  get  out 
o'  the  man,  without  his  seeing  what  we're  after, 
a'  about  himsel',  and  syne  we  repeat  it  to  him. 
That's  what  I  did  wi'  the  shirra." 


A  Woman's  Eyes  79 

"  You  drew  the  whole  thing  out  of  him  without 
his  knowing  ?" 

"  'Deed  I  did,  and  he  rode  awa'  saying  I  was  a 
witch." 

The  soldier  heard  with  the  deHght  of  a  schoolboy. 

"  Now  if  the  sheriff  does  not  liberate  you  at 
my  request,"  he  said,  "  I  will  never  let  him  hear 
the  end  of  this  story.  He  was  right ;  you  are  a 
witch.  You  deceived  the  sheriff;  yes,  undoubt- 
edly you  are  a  witch." 

He  looked  at  her  with  fun  in  his  face,  but  the 
fun  disappeared,  and  a  wondering  admiration  took 
its  place." 

"  By  Jove  !  "  he  said,  "  I  don't  wonder  you 
bewitched  the  sheriff.  I  must  take  care  or  you 
will  bewitch  the  captain,  too." 

At  this  notion  he  smiled,  but  he  also  ceased 
looking  at  her.  Suddenly  the  Egyptian  again 
began  to  cry. 

"  You're  angry  wi'  me,"  she  sobbed.  "  I  wish  I 
had  never  set  een  on  you." 

"  Why  do  you  wish  that  ?  "  Halliwell  asked. 

"  Fine  you  ken,"  she  answered,  and  again  cov- 
ered her  face  with  her  hands. 

He  looked  at  her  undecidedly. 

"  I  am  not  angry  with  you,"  he  said,  gently. 
"  You  are  an  extraordinary  girl." 

Had  he  really  made  a  conquest  of  this  beautiful 
creature  ?  Her  words  said  so,  but  had  he  ^  The 
captain  could  not  make  up  his  mind.  He  gnawed 
his  moustache  in  doubt. 

There  was  silence,  save  for  the  Egyptian's  sobs. 
Halliwell's  heart  was  touched,  and  he  drew  nearer 
her. 


8o  The   Little   Minister 

"  My  poor  girl  —  " 

He  stopped.  Was  she  crying?  Was  she  not 
laughing  at  him  rather  ?     He  became  red. 

The  gvpsv  peeped  at  him  between  her  fingers, 
and  saw  that  he  was  of  two  minds.  She  let  her 
hands  fall  from  her  face,  and  undoubtedly  there 
were  tears  on  her  cheeks. 

"If  you're  no  angry  wi'  me,"  she  said,  sadly, 
"  how  will  you  no  look  at  me?  " 

"  1  am  looking  at  you  now." 

He  was  very  close  to  her,  and  staring  into  her 
wonderful  eyes.  I  am  older  than  the  captain, 
and  those  eyes  have  dazzled  me. 

"  Captain  dear." 

She  put  her  hand  in  his.  His  chest  rose.  He 
knew  she  was  seeking  to  beguile  him,  but  he  could 
not  take  his  eyes  off  hers.  He  was  in  a  worse 
plight  than  a  woman  listening  to  the  first  whisper 
of  love. 

Now  she  was  further  from  him,  but  the  spell 
held.  She  reached  the  door,  without  taking  her 
eyes  from  his  face.  For  several  seconds  he  had 
been  as  a  man  mesmerised. 

Just  in  time  he  came  to.  It  was  when  she 
turned  from  him  to  find  the  handle  of  the  door. 
She  was  turning  it  when  his  hand  fell  on  hers  so 
suddenly  that  she  screamed.  He  twisted  her 
round. 

"  Sit  down  there,"  he  said,  hoarsely,  pointing  to 
the  chair  upon  which  he  had  flung  his  cloak.  She 
dared  not  disobey.  Then  he  leant  against  the 
door,  his  back  to  her,  for  just  then  he  wanted  no 
one  to  see  his  face.  The  gypsy  sat  very  still  and 
a  little  frightened. 


A  Woman's   Eyes  8i 

Halliwell  opened  the  door  presently,  and  called 
to  the  soldier  on  duty  below : 

"  Davidson,  see  if  you  can  find  the  sheriff.  I 
want  him.     And  Davidson  —  " 

The  captain  paused. 

"  Yes,"  he  muttered,  and  the  old  soldier  mar- 
velled at  his  words,  "  it  is  better.  Davidson,  lock 
this  door  on  the  outside." 

Davidson  did  as  he  was  ordered,  and  again  the 
Egyptian  was  left  alone  with  Halliwell. 

"  Afraid  of  a  woman  !  "  she  said,  contemptu- 
ously, though  her  heart  sank  when  she  heard  the 
key  turn  in  the  lock. 

"  I  admit  it,"  he  answered,  calmly. 

He  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  and  she 
sat  silently  watching  him, 

"  That  story  of  yours  about  the  sheriff  was  not 
true,"  he  said  at  last. 

"  I  suspect  it  wasna,"  answered  the  Egyptian, 
coolly.  "  Hae  you  been  thinking  about  it  a'  this 
time  ?  Captain,  I  could  tell  you  what  you  are 
thinking  now.  You're  wishing  it  had  been  true, 
so  that  the  ane  o'  you  could  not  lauch  at  the 
other." 

"  Silence  !  "  said  the  captain,  and  not  another 
word  would  he  speak  until  he  heard  the  sheriff 
coming  up  the  stair.  The  Egyptian  trembled  at 
his  step,  and  rose  in  desperation. 

"  Why  is  the  door  locked  ? "  cried  the  sheriff, 
shaking  it. 

"  All  right,"  answered  Halliwell ;  "  the  key  is 
on  your  side." 

At  that  moment  the  Egyptian  knocked  the 
lamp  off  the  table,  and  the  room  was  at  once  in 


82  The  Little   Minister 

darkness.  The  officer  sprang  at  her,  and,  catch- 
ing her  by  the  skirt,  held  on. 

"  Why  are  you  in  darkness  ?  "  asked  the  sheriff, 
as  he  entered. 

"  Shut  the  door,"  cried  Halliwell.  "  Put  your 
back  to  it." 

"  Don't  tell  me  the  woman  has  escaped  ?  " 

"  I  have  her  !  I  have  her  !  She  capsized  the 
lamp,  the  little  jade.     Shut  the  door." 

Still  keeping  firm  hold  of  her,  as  he  thought, 
the  captain  relit  the  lamp  with  his  other  hand. 
It  showed  an  extraordinary  scene.  The  door 
was  shut,  and  the  sheriff  was  guarding  it.  Halli- 
well was  clutching  the  cloth  of  the  bailie's  seat. 
There  was  no  Egyptian. 

A  moment  passed  before  either  man  found  his 
tongue. 

"  Open  the  door.    After  her  !  "  cried  HalHwell. 

But  the  door  would  not  open.  The  Egyptian 
had  fled,  and  locked  it  behind  her. 

What  the  two  men  said  to  each  other,  it  would 
not  be  fitting  to  tell.  When  Davidson,  who  had 
been  gossiping  at  the  corner  of  the  town-house, 
released  his  captain  and  the  sheriff,  the  gypsy  had 
been  gone  for  some  minutes. 

"  But  she  sha'n't  escape  us,"  Riach  cried,  and 
hastened  out  to  assist  in  the  pursuit. 

Halliwell  was  in  such  a  furious  temper  that  he 
called  up  Davidson,  and  admonished  him  for 
neglect  of  duty. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THREE  A.  M. MONSTROUS    AUDACITY    OF    THE 

WOMAN 

NO  r  till  the  stroke  of  three  did  Gavin  turn 
homeward,  with  the  legs  of  a  ploughman, 
and  eyes  rebelling  against  overwork.  Seeking 
to  comfort  his  dejected  people,  whose  courage 
lay  spilt  on  the  brae,  he  had  been  in  as  many 
houses  as  the  policemen.  The  soldiers  march- 
ing through  the  wynds  came  frequently  upon 
him,  and  found  it  hard  to  believe  that  he  was 
always  the  same  one.  They  told  afterwards  that 
Thrums  was  remarkable  for  the  ferocity  of  its 
women,  and  the  number  of  its  little  ministers. 
The  morning  was  nipping  cold,  and  the  streets 
were  deserted,  for  the  people  had  been  ordered 
within  doors.  As  he  crossed  the  Roods,  Gavin 
saw  a  gleam  of  redcoats.  In  the  back  wynd  he 
heard  a  bugle  blown.  A  stir  in  the  Banker's 
close  spoke  of  another  seizure.  At  the  top  of 
the  school  wynd  two  policemen,  of  whom  one 
was  Wearyworld,  stopped  the  minister  with  the 
flash  of  a  lantern. 

"  We  dauredna  let  you  pass,  sir,"  the  Tillie- 
drum  man  said,  "  without  a  good  look  at  you. 
That's  the  orders." 

"  I  hereby  swear,"  said  Wearyworld,  authori- 
tatively, "that  this  is  no  the  Egyptian.     Signed, 

83 


84  The  Little   Minister 

Peter  Spens,  policeman,  called  by  the  vulgar 
Wearyworld.  Mr.  Dishart,  you  can  pass,  unless 
you'll  bide  a  wee  and  gie  us  your  crack." 

"  You  have  not  found  the  gypsy,  then  ?  " 
Gavin  asked. 

"  No,"  the  other  policeman  said,  "  but  we  ken 
she's  within  cry  o'  this  very  spot,  and  escape 
she  canna." 

"  What  mortal  man  can  do,"  Wearyworld  said, 
"  we're  doing ;  av,  and  mair,  but  she's  auld 
wecht,  and  may  find  bilbie  in  queer  places.  Mr. 
Dishart,  my  official  opinion  is  that  this  Egyptian 
is  fearsomely  like  my  snuff-spoon.  I've  kent 
me  drap  that  spoon  on  the  fender,  and  be  beat  to 
find  it  in  an  hour.  And  yet,  a'  the  time  I  was 
sure  it  was  there.  This  is  a  gey  mysterious 
world,  and  women's  the  uncanniest  things  in't. 
It's  hardly  mous  to  think  how  uncanny  they 
are. 

"  This  one  dese^es  to  be  punished,"  Gavin 
said,  firmly  ;  "  she  incited  the  people  to  riot." 

"  She  did,"  agreed  Wearyworld,  who  was  sup- 
ping ravenously  on  sociability;  "ay,  she  even 
tried  her  tricks  on  me,  so  that  them  that  kens  no 
better  thinks  she  fooled  me.  But  she's  cracky. 
To  gie  her  her  due,  she's  cracky,  and  as  for  her 
being  a  cuttie,  you've  said  yoursel',  Mr.  Dishart, 
that  we're  all  desperately  wicked.  But  we're  sair 
tried.  Has  it  ever  struck  you  that  the  trouts 
bites  best  on  the  Sabbath .?  God's  critturs 
tempting    decent    men." 

"Come  alang,"  cried  the  Tilliedrum  man, 
impatiently. 

"  I'm  coming,  but  I   maun  give  Mr.  Dishart 


Audacity  of  the  Woman  85 

permission  to  pass  first.  Hae  you  heard,  Mr, 
Dishart,"  Wearyworld  whispered,  "  that  the 
Egyptian  diddled  baith  the  captain  and  the 
shirra?  It's  my  official  opinion  that  she's  no 
better  than  a  roasted  onion,  the  which,  if  you 
grip  it  firm,  jumps  out  o'  sicht,  leaving  its  coat 
in  your  fingers.     Mr.  Dishart,  you  can  pass." 

The  policeman  turned  down  the  school  wynd, 
and  Gavin,  who  had  already  heard  exaggerated 
accounts  of  the  strange  woman's  escape  from  the 
town-house,  proceeded  along  the  Tenements. 
He  walked  in  the  black  shadows  of  the  houses, 
though   across   the  way   there  was   the   morning 

In  talking  of  the  gypsy,  the  little  minister  had, 
as  it  were,  put  on  the  black  cap;  but  now,  even 
though  he  shook  his  head  angrily  with  every 
thought  of  her,  the  scene  in  Windyghoul  glim- 
mered before  his  eyes.  Sometimes  when  he 
meant  to  frown  he  only  sighed,  and  then  hav- 
ing sighed  he  shook  himself.  He  was  unpleas- 
antly conscious  of  his  right  hand,  which  had  flung 
the  divit.  Ah,  she  was  shameless,  and  it  would 
be  a  bright  day  for  Thrums  that  saw  the  last 
of  her.  He  hoped  the  policemen  would  succeed 
in —  It  was  the  gladsomeness  of  innocence  that 
he  had  seen  dancing  in  the  moonlight.  A  mere 
woman  could  not  be  like  that.  How  soft  — 
And  she  had  derided  him ;  he,  the  Auld  Licht 
minister  of  Thrums,  had  been  flouted  before  his 
people  by  a  hussy.  She  was  without  reverence, 
she  knew  no  difference  between  an  Auld  Licht 
minister,  whose  duty  it  was  to  speak  and  hers 
to  listen,  and  herself.     This  woman  deserved  to 


86  The   Little   Minister 

be —  And  the  look  she  cast  behind  her  as  she 
danced  and  sang  !  It  was  sweet,  so  wistful  ;  the 
presence  of  purity  had  silenced  him.  Purity ! 
Who  had  made  him  fling  that  divit  ?  He  would 
think  no  more  of  her.  Let  it  suffice  that  he 
knew  what  she  was.  He  would  put  her  from 
his  thoughts.     Was  it  a  ring  on  her  finger  ? 

Fifty  yards  in  front  of  him  Gavin  saw  the  road 
end  in  a  wall  of  soldiers.  They  were  between 
him  and  the  manse,  and  he  was  still  in  darkness. 
No  sound  reached  him,  save  the  echo  of  his 
own  feet.  But  was  it  an  echo  ?  He  stopped, 
and  turned  round  sharply.  Now  he  heard 
nothing,  he  saw  nothing.  Yet  was  not  that  a 
human  figure  standing  motionless  in  the  shadow 
behind  ? 

He  walked  on,  and  again  heard  the  sound. 
Again  he  looked  behind,  but  this  time  without 
stopping.  The  figure  was  following  him.  He 
stopped.  So  did  it.  He  turned  back,  but  it  did 
not  move.      It  was  the  Egyptian  ! 

Gavin  knew  her,  despite  the  lane  of  darkness, 
despite  the  long  cloak  that  now  concealed 
even  her  feet,  despite  the  hood  over  her  head. 
She  was  looking  quite  respectable,  but  he  knew 
her. 

He  neither  advanced  to  her  nor  retreated. 
Could  the  unhappy  girl  not  see  that  she  was 
walking  into  the  arms  of  the  soldiers  ?  But 
doubtless  she  had  been  driven  from  all  her 
hiding-places.  For  a  moment  Gavin  had  it  in 
his  heart  to  warn  her.  But  it  was  only  for  a 
moment.  The  next  a  sudden  horror  shot 
through    him.     She   was    stealing    towards    him, 


Audacity  of  the  Woman  87 

so  softly  that  he  had  not  seen  her  start.  The 
woman  had  designs  on  him  !  Gavin  turned  from 
her.  He  walked  so  quickly  that  judges  would 
have  said  he  ran. 

The  soldiers,  I  have  said,  stood  in  the  dim 
light.  Gavin  had  almost  reached  them,  when  a 
little  hand  touched  his  arm. 

"  Stop,"  cried  the  sergeant,  hearing  some  one 
approaching,  and  then  Gavin  stepped  out  of  the 
darkness  with  the  gypsy  on  his  arm. 

"  It  is  you,  Mr.  Dishart,"  said  the  sergeant, 
"  and  your  lady  ?  " 

"I  —  "  said  Gavin. 

His  lady  pinched  his  arm. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  in  an  elegant  English 
voice  that  made  Gavin  stare  at  her,  "  but,  indeed, 
I  am  sorry  I  ventured  into  the  streets  to-night. 
I  thought  I  might  be  able  to  comfort  some  of 
these  unhappy  people,  captain,  but  I  could  do 
little,  sadly  little." 

"It  is  no  scene  for  a  lady,  ma'am,  but  your 
husband  has —     Did  you  speak,  Mr.  Dishart.''" 

"  Yes,  I  must  inf — " 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  Egyptian,  "  I  quite  agree 
with  you,  so  we  need  not  detain  the  captain," 

"  I'm  only  a  sergeant,  ma'am." 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  the  Egyptian,  raising  her  pretty 
eyebrows,  "  and  how  long  are  you  to  remain  in 
Thrums,  sergeant  ?  " 

"  Only  for  a  few  hours,  Mrs.  Dishart.  If  this 
gypsy  lassie  had  not  given  us  so  much  trouble, 
we  might  have  been  gone  by  now." 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  hope  you  will  catch  her,  sergeant." 

"  Sergeant,"  said  Gavin,  firmly,  "  I  must  —  " 


88  The   Little   Minister 

"  You  must,  indeed,  dear,"  said  the  Egyptian, 
"  for  you  are  sadly  tired.     Good  night,  sergeant." 

"  Your  servant,  Mrs.  Dishart.  Your  servant, 
sir." 

"  But  —  "  cried  Gavin. 

*'  Come,  love,"  said  the  Egyptian,  and  she 
walked  the  distracted  minister  through  the  sol- 
diers, and  up  the  manse  road. 

The  soldiers  left  behind,  Gavin  flung  her  arm 
from  him,  and,  standing  still,  shook  his  fist  in  her 
face. 

"You  —  you  —  woman  !  "  he  said. 

This,  I  think,  was  the  last  time  he  called  her  a 
woman. 

But  she  was  clapping  her  hands  merrily. 

"  It  was  beautiful  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  It  was  iniquitous  !  "  he  answered.  "  And  I  a 
minister !  " 

"  You  can't  help  that,"  said  the  Egyptian,  who 
pitied  all  ministers  heartily. 

*'  No,"  Gavin  said,  misunderstanding  her.  "  I 
could  not  help  it.      No  blame  attaches  to  me." 

"  I  meant  that  you  could  not  help  being  a  min- 
ister. You  could  have  helped  saving  me,  and  I 
thank  you  so  much." 

"  Do  not  dare  to  thank  me.  I  forbid  you  to 
say  that  I  saved  you.  I  did  my  best  to  hand  you 
over  to  the  authorities." 

"  Then  why  did  you  not  hand  me  over  ?  " 

Gavin  groaned. 

"  All  you  had  to  say,"  continued  the  merciless 
Egyptian,  "  was,  *  This  is  the  person  you  are  in 
search  of  I  did  not  have  my  hand  over  your 
mouth.      Why  did  you  not  say  it  ?  " 


Audacity  of  the  Woman  89 

"  Forbear  !  "  said  Gavin,  wofully. 

"It  must  have  been,"  the  gypsy  said,  "  because 
you  really  wanted  to  help  me." 

"  Then  it  was  against  my  better  judgment," 
said  Gavin. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  the  gypsy.  "  Mr. 
Dishart,  I  do  believe  you  like  me  all  the  time." 

"  Can  a  man  like  a  woman  against  his  will .?  " 
Gavin  blurted  out. 

"  Of  course  he  can,"  said  the  Egyptian,  speak- 
ing as  one  who  knew.  "  That  is  the  very  nicest 
way  to  be  liked." 

Seeing  how  agitated  Gavin  was,  remorse  filled 
her,  and  she  said,  in  a  wheedling  voice : 

"  It  is  all  over,  and  no  one  will  know." 

Passion  sat  on  the  minister's  brow,  but  he  said 
nothing,  for  the  gypsy's  face  had  changed  with 
her  voice,  and  the  audacious  woman  was  become 
a  child. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  she  said,  as  if  he  had 
caught  her  stealing  jam.  The  hood  had  fallen 
back,  and  she  looked  pleadingly  at  him.  She 
had  the  appearance  of  one  who  was  entirely  in 
his  hands. 

There  was  a  torrent  of  words  in  Gavin,  but 
only  these  trickled  forth  : 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

"  You  are  not  angry  any  more  ?  "  pleaded  the 
Egyptian. 

"Angry!"  he  cried,  with  the  righteous  rage 
of  one  who,  when  his  leg  is  being  sawn  off,  is 
asked  gently  if  it  hurts  him. 

"  I  know  you  are,"  she  sighed,  and  the  sigh 
meant  that  men  are  strange. 


go  The   Little   Minister 

"Have  you  no  respect  for  law  and  order?" 
demanded  Gavin, 

"  Not  much,"  she  answered,  honestly. 

He  looked  down  the  road  to  where  the  red- 
coats were  still  visible,  and  his  face  became  hard. 
She  read  his  thoughts. 

"  No,"  she  said,  becoming  a  woman  again,  "  it 
is  not  yet  too  late.  Why  don't  you  shout  to 
them  ?  " 

She  was  holding  herself  like  a  queen,  but  there 
was  no  stiffness  in  her.  They  might  have  been  a 
pair  of  lovers,  and  she  the  wronged  one.  Again 
she  looked  timidly  at  him,  and  became  beautiful 
in  a  new  way.  Her  eyes  said  that  he  was  very 
cruel,  and  she  was  only  keeping  back  her  tears 
till  he  had  gone.  More  dangerous  than  her  face 
was  her  manner,  which  gave  Gavin  the  privilege 
of  making  her  unhappy  ;  it  permitted  him  to 
argue  with  her ;  it  never  implied  that,  though 
he  raged  at  her,  he  must  stand  afar  off;  it  called 
him  a  bully,  but  did  not  end  the  conversation. 

Now  (but  perhaps  I  should  not  tell  this)  unless 
she  is  his  wife  a  man  is  shot  with  a  thrill  of 
exultation  every  time  a  pretty  woman  allows  him 
to  upbraid  her. 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  Gavin  repeated, 
weakly,  and  the  gypsy  bent  her  head  under  this 
terrible  charge. 

"  Only  a  few  hours  ago,"  he  continued,  "  you 
were  a  gypsy  girl  in  a  fantastic  dress,  barefooted — " 

The  Egyptian's  bare  foot  at  once  peeped  out 
mischievously  from  beneath  the  cloak,  then  again 
retired  into  hiding. 

"  You  spoke  as  broadly,"  complained  the  min- 


Audacity  of  the  Woman  91 

ister,  somewhat  taken  aback  by  this  apparition, 
"  as  any  woman  in  Thrums,  and  now  you  fling 
a  cloak  over  your  shoulders,  and  immediately 
become  a  fine  lady.     Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  answered  the  Egyptian,  "  it  is  the 
cloak  that  has  bewitched  me."  She  slipped  out 
of  it.  "  Ay,  ay,  ou  losh  !  "  she  said,  as  if  sur- 
prised, "  it  was  just  the  cloak  that  did  it,  for  now 
I'm  a  puir  ignorant  bit  lassie  again.  My,  certie, 
but  claithes  does  make  a  differ  to  a  woman  !  " 

This  was  sheer  levity,  and  Gavin  walked  scorn- 
fully away  from  it. 

"  Yet,  if  you  will  not  tell  me  who  you  are,"  he 
said,  looking  over  his  shoulder,  "  tell  me  where 
you  got  the  cloak." 

"  Na  faags,"  replied  the  gypsy  out  of  the 
cloak.  "  Really,  Mr.  Dishart,  you  had  better 
not  ask,"  she  added,  replacing  it  over  her. 

She  followed  him,  meaning  to  gain  the  open 
by  the  fields  to  the  north  of  the  manse. 

"  Good-bye,"  she  said,  holding  out  her  hand, 
"  if  you  are  not  to  give  me  up." 

"  I  am  not  a  policeman,"  replied  Gavin,  but 
he  would  not  take  her  hand. 

"  Surely,  we  part  friends,  then  ? "  said  the 
Egyptian,  sweetly. 

"  No,"  Gavin  answered.  "  I  hope  never  to 
see  your  face  again," 

"  I  cannot  help,"  the  Egyptian  said,  with 
dignity,  "  your  not  liking  my  face."  Then, 
with  less  dignity,  she  added,  "  There  is  a  splotch 
of  mud  on  your  own,  little  minister ;  it  came  off 
the  divit  you  flung  at  the  captain." 

With  this  parting  shot  she  tripped  past  him. 


92  The  Little  Minister 

and  Gavin  would  not  let  his  eyes  follow  her.  It 
was  not  the  mud  on  his  face  that  distressed  him, 
nor  even  the  hand  that  had  flung  the  divit.  It 
was  the  word  "  little."  Though  even  Margaret 
was  not  aware  of  it,  Gavin's  shortness  had  grieved 
him  all  his  life.  There  had  been  times  when 
he  tried  to  keep  the  secret  from  himself.  In  his 
boyhood  he  had  sought  a  remedy  by  getting  his 
larger  comrades  to  stretch  him.  In  the  company 
of  tall  men  he  was  always  self-conscious.  In  the 
pulpit  he  looked  darkly  at  his  congregation  when 
he  asked  them  who,  by  taking  thought,  could  add 
a  cubit  to  his  stature.  When  standing  on  a 
hearthrug  his  heels  were  frequently  on  the  fen- 
der. In  his  bedroom  he  has  stood  on  a  foot- 
stool and  surveyed  himself  in  the  mirror.  Once 
he  fastened  high  heels  to  his  boots,  being  ashamed 
to  ask  Hendry  Munn  to  do  it  for  him  ;  but  this 
dishonesty  shamed  him,  and  he  tore  them  oflT. 
So  the  Egyptian  had  put  a  needle  into  his  pride, 
and  he  walked  to  the  manse  gloomily. 

Margaret  was  at  her  window,  looking  for  him, 
and  he  saw  her,  though  she  did  not  see  him.  He 
was  stepping  into  the  middle  of  the  road  to  wave 
his  hand  to  her,  when  some  sudden  weakness 
made  him  look  towards  the  fields  instead.  The 
Egyptian  saw  him  and  nodded  thanks  for  his 
interest  in  her,  but  he  scowled  and  pretended  to 
be  studying  the  sky.  Next  moment  he  saw  her 
running  back  to  him. 

"  There  are  soldiers  at  the  top  of  the  field," 
she  cried.     "  I  cannot  escape  that  way." 

"  There  is  no  other  way,"  Gavin  answered. 

"  Will  you  not  help  me  again  ?  "  she  entreated. 


Audacity  of  the  Woman  93 

She  should  not  have  said  "  again."  Gavin  shook 
his  head,  but  pulled  her  closer  to  the  manse  dyke, 
for  his  mother  was  still  in  sight. 

"Why  do  you  do  that?"  the  girl  asked, 
quickly,  looking  round  to  see  if  she  were  pursued. 
"  Oh,  I  see,"  she  said,  as  her  eyes  fell  on  the 
figure  at  the  window. 

"  It  is  my  mother,"  Gavin  said,  though  he  need 
not  have  explained,  unless  he  wanted  the  gypsy 
to  know  that  he  was  a  bachelor. 

"  Only  your  mother?  " 

"  Only  !  Let  me  tell  you  she  may  suffer  more 
than  you  for  your  behaviour  to-night !  " 

*'  How  can  she  ?  " 

"If  you  are  caught,  will  it  not  be  discovered 
that  I  helped  you  to  escape  ?  " 

"  But  you  said  you  did  not." 

"  Yes,  I  helped  you,"  Gavin  admitted.  "  My 
God  !  what  would  my  congregation  say  if  they 
knew  I  had  let  you  pass  yourself  off  as  —  as  my 
wife  ?  " 

He  struck  his  brow,  and  the  Egyptian  had  the 
propriety  to  blush. 

"  It  is  not  the  punishment  from  men  I  am 
afraid  of,"  Gavin  said,  bitterly,  "  but  from  my 
conscience.  No,  that  is  not  true.  I  do  fear  ex- 
posure, but  for  my  mother's  sake.  Look  at  her ; 
she  is  happy,  because  she  thinks  me  good  and 
true  ;  she  has  had  such  trials  as  you  cannot  know 
of,  and  now,  when  at  last  I  seemed  able  to  do 
something  for  her,  you  destroy  her  happiness. 
You  have  her  life  in  your  hands." 

The  Egyptian  turned  her  back  upon  him,  and 
one  of  her  feet  tapped  angrily  on  the  dry  ground. 


94  The   Little   Minister 

Then,  child  of  impulse  as  she  always  was,  she 
flashed  an  indignant  glance  at  him,  and  walked 
quickly  down  the  road. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  To  give  myself  up.  You  need  not  be 
alarmed  ;   I   will  clear  you." 

There  was  not  a  shake  in  her  voice,  and  she 
spoke  without  looking  back. 

"Stop!"  Gavin  called,  but  she  would  not, 
until  his  hand  touched  her  shoulder. 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  she  asked. 

"Why — "  whispered  Gavin,  giddily,  "why 
—  why  do  you  not  hide  in  the  manse  garden? 
No  one  will  look  for  you  there." 

There  were  genuine  tears  in  the  gypsy's  eyes 
now. 

"  You  are  a  good  man,"  she  said  ;  "  I  like 
you." 

"  Don't  say  that,"  Gavin  cried,  in  horror. 
"There  is  a  summer-seat  in  the  garden." 

Then  he  hurried  from  her,  and,  without  look- 
ing to  see  if  she  took  his  advice,  hastened  to  the 
manse.      Once  inside,  he  snibbed  the  door. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    WOMAN    CONSIDERED     IN     ABSENCE  ADVEN- 
TURES   OF    A    MILITARY    CLOAK 

ABOUT  six  o'clock  Margaret  sat  up  suddenly 
in  bed,  with  the  conviction  that  she  had 
slept  in.  To  her  this  was  to  ravel  the  day :  a 
dire  thing.  The  last  time  it  happened  Gavin, 
softened  by  her  distress,  had  condensed  morning 
worship  into  a  sentence  that  she  might  make  up 
on  the  clock. 

Her  part  on  waking  was  merely  to  ring  her 
bell,  and  so  rouse  Jean,  for  Margaret  had  given 
Gavin  a  promise  to  breakfast  in  bed,  and  remain 
there  till  her  fire  was  lit.  Accustomed  all  her 
life,  however,  to  early  rising,  her  feet  were  usually 
on  the  floor  before  she  remembered  her  vow,  and 
then  it  was  but  a  step  to  the  window  to  survey 
the  morning.  To  Margaret,  who  seldom  went 
out,  the  weather  was  not  of  great  moment,  while 
it  mattered  much  to  Gavin,  yet  she  always  thought 
of  it  the  first  thing,  and  he  not  at  all  until  he  had 
to  decide  whether  his  companion  should  be  an 
umbrella  or  a  staff. 

On  this  morning  Margaret  only  noticed  that 
there  had  been  rain  since  Gavin  came  in.  For- 
getting that  the  water  obscuring  the  outlook  was 
on  the  other  side  of  the  panes,  she  tried  to  brush 
it  away  with  her  fist.     It  was  of  the  soldiers  she 

95 


96  The   Little   Minister 

was  thinking.  They  might  have  been  awaiting 
her  appearance  at  the  window  as  their  signal  to 
depart,  for  hardly  had  she  raised  the  blind  when 
they  began  their  march  out  of  Thrums.  From 
the  manse  she  could  not  see  them,  but  she  heard 
them,  and  she  saw  some  people  at  the  Tenements 
run  to  their  houses  at  sound  of  the  drum.  Other 
persons,  less  timid,  followed  the  enemy  with  execra- 
tions halfway  to  Tilliedrum.  Margaret,  the  only 
person,  as  it  happened,  then  awake  in  the  manse, 
stood  listening  for  some  time.  In  the  summer- 
seat  of  the  garden,  however,  there  was  another 
listener  protected  from  her  sight  by  thin  spars. 
Despite  the  lateness  of  the  hour  Margaret  was 
too  soft-hearted  to  rouse  Jean,  who  had  lain  down 
in  her  clothes,  trembling  for  her  father.  She 
went  instead  into  Gavin's  room  to  look  admiringly 
at  him  as  he  slept.  Often  Gavin  woke  to  find 
that  his  mother  had  slipped  in  to  save  him  the 
enormous  trouble  of  opening  a  drawer  for  a  clean 
collar,  or  of  pouring  the  water  into  the  basin  with 
his  own  hand.  Sometimes  he  caught  her  in  the 
act  of  putting  thick  socks  in  the  place  of  thin 
ones,  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  her  passion 
for  keeping  his  belongings  in  boxes,  and  the 
boxes  in  secret  places,  and  the  secret  places  at 
the  back  of  drawers,  occasionally  led  to  their 
being  lost  when  wanted.  "  They  are  safe,  at 
any  rate,  for  I  put  them  away  some  gait,"  was 
then  Margaret's  comfort,  but  less  soothing  to 
Gavin.  Yet  if  he  upbraided  her  in  his  hurry,  it 
was  to  repent  bitterly  his  temper  the  next  instant, 
and  to  feel  its  effects  more  than  she,  temper  being 
a  weapon  that  we  hold  by  the  blade.     When  he 


The  Woman  Considered  in  Absence      97 

awoke  and  saw  her  in  his  room  he  would  pretend, 
unless  he  felt  called  upon  to  rage  at  her  for 
self-neglect,  to  be  still  asleep,  and  then  be  filled 
with  tenderness  for  her.  A  great  writer  has 
spoken  sadly  of  the  shock  it  would  be  to  a 
mother  to  know  her  boy  as  he  really  is,  but 
I  think  she  often  knows  him  better  than  he  is 
known  to  cynical  friends.  We  should  be  slower 
to  think  that  the  man  at  his  worst  is  the  real 
man,  and  certain  that  the  better  we  are  ourselves 
the  less  likely  is  he  to  be  at  his  worst  in  our 
company.  Every  time  he  talks  away  his  own 
character  before  us  he  is  signifying  contempt  for 
ours. 

On  this  morning  Margaret  only  opened  Gavin's 
door  to  stand  and  look,  for  she  was  fearful  of 
awakening  him  after  his  heavy  night.  Even 
before  she  saw  that  he  still  slept  she  noticed 
with  surprise  that,  for  the  first  time  since  he 
came  to  Thrums,  he  had  put  on  his  shutters. 
She  concluded  that  he  had  done  this  lest  the 
light  should  rouse  him.  He  was  not  sleeping 
pleasantly,  for  now  he  put  his  open  hand  before 
his  face,  as  if  to  guard  himself,  and  again  he 
frowned  and  seemed  to  draw  back  from  some- 
thing. He  pointed  his  finger  sternly  to  the 
north,  ordering  the  weavers,  his  mother  thought, 
to  return  to  their  homes,  and  then  he  muttered 
to  himself  so  that  she  heard  the  words,  "  And  if 
thy  right  hand  offend  thee  cut  it  oft,  and  cast  it 
from  thee,  for  it  is  profitable  for  thee  that  one 
of  thy  members  should  perish,  and  not  that  thy 
whole  body  should  be  cast  into  hell."  Then 
suddenly  he    bent   forward,   his  eyes   open  and 


98  The   Little   Minister 

fixed  on  the  window.  Thus  he  sat,  for  the  space 
of  half  a  minute,  like  one  listening  with  painful 
intentness.  When  he  lay  back  Margaret  slipped 
away.  She  knew  he  was  living  the  night  over 
again,  but  not  of  the  divit  his  right  hand  had 
cast,  nor  of  the  woman  in  the  garden. 

Gavin  was  roused  presently  by  the  sound  of 
voices  from  Margaret's  room,  where  Jean,  who 
had  now  gathered  much  news,  was  giving  it  to 
her  mistress.  Jean's  cheerfulness  would  have 
told  him  that  her  father  was  safe  had  he  not 
wakened  to  thoughts  of  the  Egyptian.  I  sup- 
pose he  was  at  the  window  in  an  instant,  unsnib- 
bing  the  shutters  and  looking  out  as  cautiously 
as  a  burglar  might  have  looked  in.  The  Egyp- 
tian was  gone  from  the  summer-seat.  He  drew 
a  great  breath. 

But  his  troubles  were  not  over.  He  had  just 
lifted  his  ewer  of  water  when  these  words  from 
the  kitchen  capsized  it : 

"  Ay,  an  Egyptian.  That's  what  the  auld 
folk  call  a  gypsy.  Weel,  Mrs.  Dishart,  she  led 
police  and  sojers  sic  a  dance  through  Thrums  as 
would  baffle  description,  though  I  kent  the  fits 
and  fors  o't  as  I  dinna.  Ay,  but  they  gripped 
her  in  the  end,  and  the  queer  thing  is  —  " 

Gavin  listened  to  no  more.  He  suddenly  sat 
down.  The  queer  thing,  of  course,  was  that  she 
had  been  caught  in  his  garden.  Yes,  and  doubt- 
less queerer  things  about  this  hussy  and  her  "  hus- 
band "  were  being  bawled  from  door  to  door. 
To  the  girl's  probable  sufferings  he  gave  no  heed. 
What  kind  of  man  had  he  been  a  few  hours  ago 
to  yield  to  the  machinations  of  a  woman  who  was 


The  Woman  Considered  in  Absence      99 

so  obviously  the  devil  ?  Now  he  saw  his  folly  in 
the  face. 

The  tray  in  Jean's  hands  clattered  against  the 
dresser,  and  Gavin  sprang  from  his  chair.  He 
thought  it  was  his  elders  at  the  front  door. 

In  the  parlour  he  found  Margaret  sorrowing 
for  those  whose  mates  had  been  torn  from  them, 
and  Jean  with  a  face  flushed  by  talk.  On  ordi- 
nary occasions  the  majesty  of  the  minister  still 
cowed  Jean,  so  that  she  could  only  gaze  at  him 
without  shaking  when  in  church,  and  then  because 
she  wore  a  veil.  In  the  manse  he  was  for  taking 
a  glance  at  sideways  and  then  going  away  com- 
forted, as  a  respectable  woman  may  once  or 
twice  in  a  day  look  at  her  brooch  in  the  paste- 
board box  as  a  means  of  helping  her  with  her 
work.  But  with  such  a  to-do  in  Thrums,  and 
she  the  possessor  of  exclusive  information,  Jean's 
reverence  for  Gavin  only  took  her  to-day  as  far  as 
the  door,  where  she  lingered  half  in  the  parlour  and 
half  in  the  lobby,  her  eyes  turned  politely  from 
the  minister,  but  her  ears  his  entirely. 

"  I  thought  I  heard  Jean  telling  you  about  the 
capture  of  the  —  of  an  Egyptian  woman,"  Gavin 
said  to  his  mother,  nervously. 

"  Did  you  cry  to  me  ?  "  Jean  asked,  turning 
round  longingly.  "  But  maybe  the  mistress  will 
tell  you  about  the  Egyptian  hersel'." 

"  Has  she  been  taken  to  Tilliedrum  ?  "  Gavin 
asked,  in  a  hollow  voice. 

"  Sup  up  your  porridge,  Gavin,"  Margaret 
said.  "  I'll  have  no  speaking  about  this  terrible 
night  till  you've  eaten  something." 

"  I   have   no   appetite,"    the   minister    replied, 


lOO  The  Little  Minister 

pushing  his  plate  from  him.  "  Jean,  answer 
me. 

"  'Deed,  then,"  said  Jean,  willingly,  "  they 
hinna  ta'en  her  to  Tilliedrum." 

"  For  what  reason  ?  "  asked  Gavin,  his  dread 
increasing. 

"  For  the  reason  that  they  couldna  catch  her," 
Jean  answered.  "  She  spirited  hersel'  awa',  the 
magerful  crittur." 

"  What !     But  I  heard  you  say  —  " 

"  Ay,  they  had  her  aince,  but  they  couldna 
keep  her.  It's  like  a  witch  story.  They  had  her 
safe  in  the  town-house,  and  baith  shirra  and  cap- 
tain guarding  her,  and  syne  in  a  clink  she  wasna 
there.  A'  nicht  they  looked  for  her,  but  she 
hadna  left  so  muckle  as  a  foot-print  ahint  her, 
and  in  the  tail  of  the  day  they  had  to  up  wi'  their 
tap  in  their  lap  and  march  awa  without  her." 

Gavin's  appetite  returned. 

"  Has  she  been  seen  since  the  soldiers  went 
away  ?  "  he  asked,  laying  down  his  spoon  with 
a  new  fear.     "  Where  is  she  now  ?  " 

"  No  human  eye  has  seen  her,"  Jean  answered, 
impressively.  "  Whaur  is  she  now  ?  Whaur  does 
the  flies  vanish  to  in  winter  ?  We  ken  they're 
some  gait,  but  whaur?  " 

"  But  what  are  the  people  saying  about  her  ?  " 

"  Daft  things,"  said  Jean.  "  Old  Charles  Yuill 
gangs  the  length  o'  hinting  that  she's  dead  and 
buried." 

"  She  could  not  have  buried  herself,  Jean," 
Margaret  said,  mildly. 

"  I  dinna  ken.  Charles  savs  she's  even  capable 
o'  that." 


The  Woman   Considered  in  Absence      loi 

Then  Jean  retired  reluctantly  (but  leaving  the 
door  ajar)  and  Gavin  fell  to  on  his  porridge.  He 
was  now  so  cheerful  that  Margaret  wondered. 

"  If  half  the  stories  about  this  gypsy  be  true," 
she  said,  "  she  must  be  more  than  a  mere 
woman." 

"  Less,  you  mean,  mother,"  Gavin  said,  with 
conviction.     "  She  is  a  woman,  and  a  sinful  one." 

"  Did  you  see  her,  Gavin  ?  " 

"  I  saw  her.      Mother,  she  flouted  me  !  " 

"  The  daring  tawpie  !  "  exclaimed  Margaret. 

"  She  is  all  that,"  said  the  minister. 

"  Was  she  dressed  just  like  an  ordinary  gypsy 
body?   But  you  don't  notice  clothes  much,  Gavin." 

"  I  noticed  hers,"  Gavin  said,  slowly,  "  she  was 
in  a  green  and  red,  I  think,  and  barefooted." 

"  Ay,"  shouted  Jean  from  the  kitchen,  startling 
both  of  them ;  "  but  she  had  a  lang  gray-like 
cloak,  too.  She  was  seen  jouking  up  closes 
m  t. 

Gavin  rose,  considerably  annoyed,  and  shut  the 
parlour  door. 

"  Was  she  as  bonny  as  folks  say  ? "  asked 
Margaret.  "  Jean  says  they  speak  of  her  beauty 
as  unearthly." 

"  Beauty  of  her  kind,"  Gavin  explained  learn- 
edly, "  is  neither  earthly  nor  heavenly."  He 
was  seeing  things  as  they  are  very  clearly  now. 
"  What,"  he  said,  "  is  mere  physical  beauty  ? 
Pooh  !  " 

"  And  yet,"  said  Margaret,  "  the  soul  surely 
does  speak  through  the  face  to  some  extent." 

''  Do  you  really  think  so,  mother  ?  "  Gavin 
asked,  a  little  uneasily. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


I02  The   Little   Minister 

"  I  have  always  noticed  it,"  Margaret  said,  and 
then  her  son  sighed. 

"  But  I  would  let  no  face  influence  me  a  jot," 
he  said,  recovering. 

"Ah,  Gavin,  I'm  thinking  I'm  the  reason  you 
pay  so  little  regard  to  women's  faces.  It's  no 
natural." 

"  You've  spoilt  me,  you  see,  mother,  for  ever 
caring  for  another  woman.  I  would  compare  her 
to  vou,  and  then  where  would  she  be  ?  " 

"  Sometime,"  Margaret  said,  "  you'll  think 
difi^erently." 

"  Never,"  answered  Gavin,  with  a  violence  that 
ended  the  conversation. 

Soon  afterwards  he  set  off  for  the  town,  and  in 
passing  down  the  garden  walk  cast  a  guilty  glance 
at  the  summer-seat.  Something  black  was  lying 
in  one  corner  of  it.  He  stopped  irresolutely,  for 
his  mother  was  nodding  to  him  from  her  window. 
Then  he  disappeared  into  the  little  arbour.  What 
had  caught  his  eye  was  a  Bible.  On  the  previous 
day,  as  he  now  remembered,  he  had  been  called 
away  while  studying  in  the  garden,  and  had  left 
his  Bible  on  the  summer-seat,  a  pencil  between 
its  pages.  Not  often  probably  had  the  Egyptian 
passed  a  night  in  such  company. 

But  what  was  this  ?  Gavin  had  not  to  ask  him- 
self the  question.  The  gypsy's  cloak  was  lying 
neatly  folded  at  the  other  end  of  the  seat.  Why 
had  the  woman  not  taken  it  with  her?  Hardly 
had  he  put  this  question  when  another  stood  in 
front  of  it.  What  was  to  be  done  with  the  cloak? 
He  dared  not  leave  it  there  for  Jean  to  discover. 
He  could  not  take  it  into  the  manse  in  daylight. 


The  Woman  Considered  in  Absence      103 

Beneath  the  seat  was  a  tool-chest  without  a  lid, 
and  into  this  he  crammed  the  cloak.  Then, 
having  turned  the  box  face  downwards,  he  went 
about  his  duties.  But  many  a  time  during  the 
day  he  shivered  to  the  marrow,  reflecting  sud- 
denly that  at  this  very  moment  Jean  might  be 
carrying  the  accursed  thing  (at  arms'  length,  like 
a  dog  in  disgrace)  to  his  mother. 

Now  let  those  who  think  that  Gavin  has  not 
yet  paid  toll  for  taking  the  road  with  the  Egyp- 
tian, follow  the  adventures  of  the  cloak.  Shortly 
after  gloaming  fell  that  night  Jean  encountered 
her  master  in  the  lobby  of  the  manse.  He  was 
carrying  something,  and  when  he  saw  her  he 
slipped  it  behind  his  back.  Had  he  passed  her 
openly  she  would  have  suspected  nothing,  but 
this  made  her  look  at  him. 

"  Why  do  you  stare  so,  Jean  ? "  Gavin  asked, 
conscience-stricken,  and  he  stood  with  his  back 
to  the  wall  until  she  had  retired  in  bewilderment. 

"  I  have  noticed  her  watching  me  sharply  all 
day,"  he  said  to  himself,  though  it  was  only  he 
who  had  been  watching  her. 

Gavin  carried  the  cloak  to  his  bedroom,  think- 
ing to  lock  it  away  in  his  chest,  but  it  looked  so 
wicked  lying  there  that  he  seemed  to  see  it  after 
the  lid  was  shut. 

The  garret  was  the  best  place  for  it.  He  took 
it  out  of  the  chest  and  was  opening  his  door 
gently,  when  there  was  Jean  again.  She  had 
been  employed  very  innocently  in  his  mother's 
room,  but  he  said,  tartly  : 

"Jean,  I  really  cannot  have  this,"  which  sent 
Jean  to  the  kitchen  with  her  apron  at  her  eyes. 


I04  The   Little   Minister 

Gavin  stowed  the  cloak  beneath  the  garret  bed, 
and  an  hour  afterwards  was  engaged  on  his  ser- 
mon, when  he  distinctly  heard  some  one  in  the 
garret.  He  ran  up  the  ladder  with  a  terrible 
brow  for  Jean,  but  it  was  not  Jean ;  it  was 
Margaret. 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  in  alarm,  "  what  are  you 
doing  here  ?  " 

"  I  am  only  tidying  up  the  garret,  Gavin." 

"Yes,  but  —  it  is  too  cold  for  you.  Did  Jean 
—  did  Jean  ask  you  to  come  up  here  ?  " 

"Jean?     She  knows  her  place  better." 

Gavin  took  Margaret  down  to  the  parlour,  but 
his  confidence  in  the  garret  had  gone.  He  stole 
up  the  ladder  again,  dragged  the  cloak  from  its 
lurking-place,  and  took  it  into  the  garden.  He 
very  nearly  met  Jean  in  the  lobby  again,  but 
hearing  him  coming  she  fled  precipitately,  which 
he  thought  very  suspicious. 

In  the  garden  he  dug  a  hole,  and  there  buried 
the  cloak,  but  even  now  he  was  not  done  with  it. 
He  was  awakened  early  by  a  noise  of  scraping  in 
the  garden,  and  his  first  thought  was  "  Jean  !  " 
But  peering  from  the  window,  he  saw  that  the 
resurrectionist  was  a  dog,  which  already  had  its 
teeth  in  the  cloak. 

That  forenoon  Gavin  left  the  manse  unosten- 
tatiously carrying  a  brown  paper  parcel.  He 
proceeded  to  the  hill,  and,  having  dropped  the 
parcel  there,  retired  hurriedly.  On  his  way  home, 
nevertheless,  he  was  overtaken  by  D.  Fittis,  who 
had  been  cutting  down  whins.  Fittis  had  seen 
the  parcel  fall,  and,  running  after  Gavin,  returned 
it   to  him.      Gavin   thanked    D.   Fittis,  and  then 


The  Woman   Considered  in  Absence      105 

sat  down  gloomily  on  the  cemetery  dyke.  Half 
an  hour  afterwards  he  flung  the  parcel  into  a 
Tillyloss  garden. 

In  the  evening  Margaret  had  news  for  him, 
got  from  Jean. 

"  Do  you  remember,  Gavin,  that  the  Egyp- 
tian every  one  is  still  speaking  of  wore  a  long 
cloak  ?  Well,  would  you  believe  it,  the  cloak 
was  Captain  Halliwell's,  and  she  took  it  from 
the  town-house  when  she  escaped.  She  is  sup- 
posed to  have  worn  it  inside  out.  He  did  not 
discover  that  it  was  gone  until  he  was  leaving 
Thrums." 

"  Mother,  is  this  possible  ?  "  Gavin  said. 

"  The  policeman,  Wearyworld,  has  told  it. 
He  was  ordered,  it  seems,  to  look  for  the  cloak 
quietly,  and  to  take  any  one  into  custody  in 
whose  possession  it  was  found." 

"  Has  it  been  found  ?  " 

"  No." 

The  minister  walked  out  of  the  parlour,  for  he 
could  not  trust  his  face.  What  was  to  be  done 
now  ?  The  cloak  was  lying  in  mason  Baxter's 
garden,  and  Baxter  was  therefore,  in  all  probabil- 
ity, within  four  and  twenty  hours  of  the  Tillie- 
drum  gaol. 

"  Does  Mr.  Dishart  ever  wear  a  cap  at  nichts  ?  " 
Femie  Wilkie  asked  Sam'l  Fairweather  three 
hours  later. 

"  Na,  na,  he  has  ower  muckle  respect  for  his 
lum  hat,"  answered  Sam'l;  "and  richtly,  for  it's 
the  crowning  stone  o'  the  edifice." 

"  Then  it  couldna  hae  been  him  I  met  at  the 
back  o'  Tillyloss  the  now,"  said  Femie,  "  though 


io6  The   Little   Minister 

like  him  it  was.  He  joukit  back  when  he  saw 
me. 

While  Femie  was  telling  her  story  in  the  Tene- 
ments, mason  Baxter,  standing  at  the  window 
which  looked  into  his  garden,  was  shouting, 
"  Wha's  that  in  my  yard?"  There  was  no 
answer,  and  Baxter  closed  his  window,  under  the 
impression  that  he  had  been  speaking  to  a  cat. 
The  man  in  the  cap  then  emerged  from  the  cor- 
ner where  he  had  been  crouching,  and  stealthily 
felt  for  something  among  the  cabbages  and  pea 
sticks.  It  was  no  longer  there,  however,  and  by 
and  by  he  retired  empty-handed. 

"The  Egyptian's  cloak  has  been  found,"  Mar- 
garet was  able  to  tell  Gavin  next  day.  "  Mason 
Baxter  found  it  yesterday  afternoon." 

"In  his  garden  ?  "  Gavin  asked,  hurriedly. 

"  No ;  in  the  quarry,  he  says,  but  according  to 
Jean  he  is  known  not  to  have  been  at  the  quarry 
to-day.  Some  seem  to  think  that  the  gypsy  gave 
him  the  cloak  for  helping  her  to  escape,  and  that 
he  has  delivered  it  up  lest  he  should  get  into 
difficulties." 

"Whom  has  he  given  it  to,  mother?"  Gavin 
asked. 

"  To  the  policeman." 

"  And  has  Wearyworld  sent  it  back  to  Halli- 
well?" 

"Yes.  He  told  Jean  he  sent  it  off  at  once, 
with  the  information  that  the  masons  had  found 
it  in  the  quarry." 

The  next  day  was  Sabbath,  when  a  new  trial, 
now  to  be  told,  awaited  Gavin  in  the  pulpit;  but 
it  had   nothing  to  do  with  the  cloak,  of  which    I 


The  Woman  Considered  in  Absence      107 

may  here  record  the  end.  Wearyworld  had  not 
forwarded  it  to  its  owner  ;  Meggy,  his  wife,  took 
care  of  that.  It  made  its  reappearance  in  Thrums 
several  months  after  the  riot,  as  two  pairs  of  Sab- 
bath breeks  for  her  sons,  James  and  Andrew. 


CHAPTER    X 

FIRST    SERMON    AGAINST    WOMEN 

ON  the  afternoon  of  the  following  Sabbath, 
as  I  have  said,  something  strange  happened 
in  the  Auld  Licht  pulpit.  The  congregation, 
despite  their  troubles,  turned  it  over  and  peered 
at  it  for  days,  but  had  they  seen  into  the  inside 
of  it,  they  would  have  weaved  few  webs  until 
the  session  had  sat  on  the  minister.  The  affair 
baffled  me  at  the  time,  and  for  the  Egyptian's 
sake  I  would  avoid  mentioning  it  now,  were  it 
not  one  of  Gavin's  milestones.  It  includes  the 
first  of  his  memorable  sermons  against  Woman. 

I  was  not  in  the  Auld  Licht  church  that  day, 
but  I  heard  of  the  sermon  before  night,  and  this, 
1  think,  is  as  good  an  opportunity  as  another 
for  showing  how  the  gossip  about  Gavin  reached 
me  up  here  in  the  Glen  schoolhouse.  Since 
Margaret  and  her  son  came  to  the  manse,  I 
had  kept  the  vow  made  to  myself,  and  avoided 
Thrums.  Only  once  had  I  ventured  to  the  kirk, 
and  then,  instead  of  taking  my  old  seat,  the 
fourth  from  the  pulpit,  I  sat  down  near  the 
plate,  where  I  could  look  at  Margaret  without 
her  seeing  me.  To  spare  her  that  agony,  I  even 
stole  away  as  the  last  word  of  the  benediction 
was  pronounced,  and  my  haste  scandalised  many, 
for,    with    Auld    Lichts,   it   is    not   customary    to 


First  Sermon  Against  Women         109 

retire  quickly  from  the  church  after  the  manner 
of  the  godless  U.  P.'s  (and  the  Free  Kirk  is  little 
better),  who  have  their  hats  in  their  hand  when 
they  rise  for  the  benediction,  so  that  they  may 
at  once  pour  out  like  a  burst  dam.  We  re- 
sume our  seats,  look  straight  before  us,  clear 
our  throats,  and  stretch  out  our  hands  for 
our  womenfolk  to  put  our  hats  into  them. 
In  time  we  do  get  out,  but  I  am  never  sure 
how. 

One  may  gossip  in  a  glen  on  Sabbaths,  though 
not  in  a  town,  without  losing  his  character,  and 
I  used  to  await  the  return  of  my  neighbour,  the 
farmer  of  Waster  Lunny,  and  of  Silva  Birse,  the 
Glen  Qiiharity  post,  at  the  end  of  the  school- 
house  path.  Waster  Lunny  was  a  man  whose 
care  in  his  leisure  hours  was  to  keep  from  his 
wife  his  great  pride  in  her.  His  horse,  Catlaw, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  told  outright  what  he 
thought  of  it,  praising  it  to  its  face,  and  black- 
guarding it  as  it  deserved,  and  I  have  seen  him, 
when  completely  baffled  by  the  brute,  sit  down 
before  it  on  a  stone  and  thus  harangue :  "  You 
think  you're  clever,  Catlaw,  my  lass,  but  you're 
mista'en.  You're  a  thrawn  limmer,  that's  what 
you  are.  You  think  you  have  blood  in  you. 
You  hae  blood  !  Gae  away,  and  dinna  blether. 
I  tell  you  what,  Catlaw,  I  met  a  man  yestreen 
that  kent  your  mither,  and  he  says  she  was  a 
feikie  fushionless  besom.  What  do  you  say  to 
that  ?  " 

As  for  the  post,  I  will  say  no  more  of  him 
than  that  his  bitter  topic  was  the  unreasonable- 
ness of  humanity,  which  treated  him  graciously 


I  lO  The   Little    Minister 

when  he  had  a  letter  for  it,  but  scowled  at 
him  when  he  had  none,  "  aye  implying  that  I 
hae  a  letter,  but  keep  it  back," 

On  the  Sabbath  evening  after  the  riot,  I  stood 
at  the  usual  place  awaiting  my  friends,  and  saw, 
before  they  reached  me,  that  they  had  something 
untoward  to  tell.  The  farmer,  his  wife  and  three 
children,  holding  each  other's  hands,  stretched 
across  the  road.  Birse  was  a  little  behind,  but 
a  conversation  was  being  kept  up  by  shouting. 
All  were  walking  the  Sabbath  pace,  and  the 
family  having  started  half  a  minute  in  advance, 
the  post  had  not  yet  made  up  on  them. 

"  It's  sitting  to  snaw,"  Waster  Lunny  said, 
drawing  near;  and  just  as  1  was  to  reply,  "It 
is  so,"  Silva  slipped  in  the  words  before  me. 

"  You  wasna  at  the  kirk,"  was  Elspeth's  salu- 
tation. I  had  been  at  the  Glen  church,  but  did 
not  contradict  her,  for  it  is  Established,  and  so 
neither  here  nor  there.  I  was  anxious,  too,  to 
know  what  their  long  faces  meant,  and  so  asked 
at  once  : 

"  Was  Mr.  Dishart  on  the  riot  ?  " 

"  Forenoon,  ay  ;  afternoon,  no,"  replied  Waster 
Lunny,  walking  round  his  wife  to  get  nearer  me. 
"  Dominie,  a  queery  thing  happened  in  the  kirk 
this  day,  sic  as  —  " 

"Waster  Lunny,"  interrupted  Elspeth, sharply ; 
"  have  you  on  your  Sabbath  shoon  or  have  you 
no  on  your  Sabbath  shoon  ?  " 

"  Guid  care  you  took  I  should  hae  the  dagont 
oncanny  things  on,"  retorted  the  farmer. 

"  Keep  out  o'  the  gutter,  then,"  said  Elspeth, 
"  on  the  Lord's  day." 


First  Sermon  Against  Women         1 1 1 

"  Him,"  said  her  man,  "  that  is  forced  by  a 
foolish  woman  to  wear  genteel  'lastic-sided  boots 
canna  forget  them  till  he  takes  them  aff. 
Whaur's  the  extra  reverence  in  wearing  shoon 
twa  sizes  ower  sma  ?  " 

"  It  mayna  be  mair  reverent,"  suggested  Birse, 
to  whom  Elspeth's  kitchen  was  a  pleasant  place, 
*'  but  it's  grand,  and  you  canna  expect  to  be  baith 
grand  and  comfortable." 

I  reminded  them  that  they  were  speaking  of 
Mr.  Dishart. 

"  We  was  saying,"  began  the  post,  briskly, 
"that  —  " 

"  It  was  me  that  was  saying  it,"  said  Waster 
Lunny.     "  So,  dominie  —  " 

"  Haud  your  gabs,  baith  o'  you,"  interrupted 
Elspeth.  "  You've  been  roaring  the  story  to  ane 
another  till  you're  hoarse." 

"In  the  forenoon,"  Waster  Lunny  went  on, 
determinedly,  "  Mr.  Dishart  preached  on  the 
riot,  and  fine  he  was.  Oh,  dominie,  you  should 
hae  heard  him  ladling  it  on  to  Lang  Tammas,  no 
by  name  but  in  sic  a  way  that  there  was  no  mis- 
taking wha  he  was  preaching  at.  Sal !  oh,  losh  ! 
Tammas  got  it  strong." 

"  But  he's  dull  in  the  uptake,"  broke  in  the 
post,  "  by  what  I  expected.  I  spoke  to  him  after 
the  sermon,  and  I  says,  just  to  see  if  he  was 
properly  humbled,  '  Ay,  Tammas,'  I  says,  *  them 
that  discourse  was  preached  against  winna  think 
themselves  seven  feet  men  for  a  while  again.' 
*  Ay,  Birse,'  he  answers,  '  and  glad  I  am  to  hear 
you  admit  it,  for  he  had  you  in  his  eye.'  I  was 
fair  scunnered  at  Tammas  the  day." 


112  The   Little   Minister 

"  Mr.  Dishart  was  preaching  at  the  whole  clan- 
jamfray  o'  you,"  said  Elspeth, 

"  Maybe  he  was,"  said  her  husband,  leering ; 
"  but  you  needna  cast  it  at  us,  for,  my  certie, 
if  the  men  got  it  frae  him  in  the  forenoon,  the 
women  got  it  in  the  afternoon." 

"  He  redd  them  up  most  michty,"  said  the 
post.  "  Thae  was  his  very  words  or  something 
like  them.  '  Adam,'  says  he, '  was  an  erring  man, 
but  aside  Eve  he  was  respectable.'  " 

"  Ay,  but  it  wasna  a'  women  he  meant,"  Els- 
peth explained,  "for  when  he  said  that,  he  pointed 
his  finger  direct  at  T'nowhead's  lassie,  and  I  hope 
it'll  do  her  good." 

"But  I  wonder,"  I  said,  "that  Mr.  Dishart 
chose  such  a  subject  to-day.  I  thought  he  would 
be  on  the  riot  at  both  services." 

"  You'll  wonder  mair,"  said  Elspeth,  "  when 
you  hear  what  happened  afore  he  began  the  after- 
noon sermon.  But  1  canna  get  in  a  word  wi' 
that  man  o'  mine." 

"  We've  been  speaking  about  it,"  said  Birse, 
"  ever  since  we  left  the  kirk  door.  Tod,  we've 
been  sawing  it  like  seed  a'  alang  the  glen." 

"And  we  meant  to  tell  you  about  it  at  once," 
said  Waster  Lunny  ;  "  but  there's  aye  so  muckle 
to  say  about  a  minister.  Dagont,  to  hae  ane 
keeps  a  body  out  o'  languor.  Ay,  but  this 
breaks  the  drum.  Dominie,  either  Mr.  Dishart 
wasna  weel,  or  he  was  in  the  devil's  grip." 

This  startled  me,  for  the  farmer  was  looking 
serious. 

"  He  was  weel  eneuch,"  said  Birse,  "  for  a  heap 
o'  fowk  speired  at  Jean  if  he  had  ta'en  his  por- 


First  Sermon  Against  Women  113 

ridge  as  usual,  and  she  admitted  he  had.  But 
the  lassie  was  skeered  hersel',  and  said  it  was  a 
mercy  Mrs.  Dishart  wasna  in  the  kirk." 

"  Why  was  she  not  there  ?  "   I  asked,  anxiously. 

"  Oh,  he  winna  let  her  out  in  sic  weather." 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  what  happened,"  I 
said  to  Elspeth. 

"  So  I  will,"  she  answered,  "if  Waster  Lunny 
would  haud  his  wheesht  for  a  minute.  You  see 
the  afternoon  diet  began  in  the  ordinary  way,  and 
a'  was  richt  until  we  came  to  the  sermon.  *  You 
will  find  my  text,'  he  says,  in  his  piercing  voice, 
*  in  the  eighth  chapter  of  Ezra,'  " 

"  And  at  thae  words,"  said  Waster  Lunny, 
"  my  heart  gae  a  loup,  for  Ezra  is  an  unca  ill 
book  to  find ;  ay,  and  so  is   Ruth." 

"  I  kent  the  books  o'  the  Bible  by  heart,"  said 
Elspeth,  scornfully,  "  when  I  was  a  sax-year- 
auld." 

"  So  did  I,"  said  Waster  Lunny,  "  and  I  ken 
them  yet,  except , when  I'm  hurried.  When  Mr. 
Dishart  gave  out  Ezra  he  a  sort  o'  keeked  round 
the  kirk  to  find  out  if  he  had  puzzled  onybody, 
and  so  there  was  a  kind  o'  a  competition  among 
the  congregation  wha  would  lay  hand  on  it  first. 
That  was  what  doited  me.  Ay,  there  was  Ruth 
when  she  wasna  wanted,  but  Ezra,  dagont,  it 
looked  as  if  Ezra  had  jumped  clean  out  o'  the 
Bible." 

"  You  wasna  the  only  distressed  crittur,"  said 
his  wife.  "  I  was  ashamed  to  see  Eppie  McLaren 
looking  up  the  order  o'  the  books  at  the  beginning 
o'  the  Bible." 

"  Tibbie  Birse  was  even  mair  brazen,"  said  the 


114  The  Little  Minister 

post,  "  for  the  sly  cuttie  opened  at  Kings  and 
pretended  it  was  Ezra." 

"  None  o'  thae  things  would  I  do,"  said  Waster 
Lunny,  "  and  sal,  1  dauredna,  for  Davit  Lunan 
was  glowering  over  my  shuther.  Ay,  you  may 
scowl  at  me,  Elspeth  Proctor,  but  as  far  back  as 
I  can  mind,  Ezra  has  done  me.  Mony  a  time 
afore  I  start  for  the  kirk  I  take  my  Bible  to  a 
quiet  place  and  look  Ezra  up.  In  the  very  pew 
I  says  canny  to  mysel', '  Ezra,  Neheniiah,  Esther, 
Job,'  the  which  should  be  a  help,  but  the  moment 
the  minister  gi'es  out  that  awfu'  book,  away  goes 
Ezra  like  the  Egyptian." 

"  And  you  after  her,"  said  Elspeth,  "  like  the 
weavers  that  wouldna  fecht.  You  make  a 
windmill  of  your  Bible." 

"  Oh,  I  winna  admit  I'm  beat.  Never  mind, 
there's  queer  things  in  the  world  forby  E!,zra. 
How  is  cripples  aye  so  puffed  up  mair  than 
other  folk  ?  How  does  flour  bread  aye  fall  on 
the  buttered  side  }  " 

"  I  will  mind,"  Elspeth  said,  "  for  I  was  ter- 
rified the  minister  would  admonish  you  frae  the 
pulpit." 

"He  couldna  hae  done  that,  for  was  he  no 
baffled  to  find  Ezra  himsel'  ?  " 

"  Him  no  find  Ezra  !  "  cried  Elspeth.  "  I  hae 
telled  you  a  dozen  times  he  found  it  as  easy  as 
you  could  yoke  a  horse." 

"  The  thing  can  be  explained  in  no  other  way," 
said  her  husband,  doggedly,  "  if  he  was  weel  and 
in  sound  mind." 

"  Maybe  the  dominie  can  clear  it  up,"  sug- 
gested the  post,  "  him  being  a  scholar." 


First  Sermon  Against  Women  115 

"  Then  tell  me  what  happened,"  I  asked. 

"  Godsake,  hae  we  no  tciled  you  ?  "  Birse  said. 
"  I  thocht  we  had." 

"  It  was  a  terrible  scene,"  said  Elspeth,  giving 
her  husband  a  shove.  "  As  I  said,  Mr,  Dishart 
gave  out  Ezra  eighth.  Weel,  I  turned  it  up  in 
a  jiffy,  and  syne  looked  cautiously  to  see  how 
Eppie  McLaren  was  getting  on.  Just  at  that 
minute  I  heard  a  groan  frae  the  pulpit.  It  didna 
stop  short  o'  a  groan.  Ay,  you  may  be  sure 
I  looked  quick  at  the  minister,  and  there  I 
saw  a  sicht  that  would  hae  made  the  grandest 
gape.  His  face  was  as  white  as  a  baker's,  and 
he  had  a  sort  of  fallen  against  the  back  o' 
the  pulpit,  staring  demented-like  at  his  open 
Bible." 

"  And  I  saw  him,"  said  Birse,  "  put  up  his 
hand  atween  him  and  the  Book,  as  if  he  thocht 
it  was  to  jump  at  him." 

"  Twice,"  said  Elspeth,  "  he  tried  to  speak, 
and  twice  he  let  the  words  fall." 

"  That,"  says  Waster  Lunny,  "  the  whole  con- 
gregation admits,  but  I  didna  see  it  mysel',  for  a' 
this  time  you  may  picture  me  hunting  savage-like 
for  Ezra.  I  thocht  the  minister  was  waiting  till 
I  found  it." 

"Hendry  Munn,"  said  Birse,  "stood  upon 
one  leg,  wondering  whether  he  should  run  to 
the  session-house  for  a  glass  of  water." 

"But  by  that  time,"  said  Elspeth,  "the  fit  had 
left  Mr.  Dishart,  or  rather  it  had  ta'en  a  new 
turn.  He  grew  red,  and  it's  gospel  that  he 
stamped  his  foot." 

"He  had  the  face  of  one  using  bad  words," 


ii6  The  Little  Minister 

said  the  post.  "  He  didna  swear,  of  course,  but 
that  was  the  face  he  had  on." 

"  1  missed  it,"  said  Waster  Lunny,  "  for  I  was 
in  full  cry  after  Ezra,  with  the  sweat  running 
down  my  face." 

"  But  the  most  astounding  thing  has  yet  to  be 
telled,"  went  on  Elspeth.  "  The  minister  shook 
himsel'  like  one  wakening  frae  a  nasty  dream,  and 
he  cries  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  just  as  if  he  was 
shaking  his  fist  at  somebody  —  " 

"  He  cries,"  Birse  interposed,  cleverly,  "  he 
cries,  '  You  will  find  the  text  in  Genesis,  chapter 
three,  verse  six.'  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Elspeth,  "  first  he  gave  out  one 
text,  and  then  he  gave  out  another,  being  the 
most  amazing  thing  to  my  mind  that  ever 
happened  in  the  town  of  Thrums.  What  will 
our  children's  children  think  o't  ^  I  wouldna  hae 
missed  it  for  a  pound  note." 

"  Nor  me,"  said  Waster  Lunny,  "  though  I 
only  got  the  tail  o't.  Dominie,  no  sooner  had  he 
said  Genesis  third  and  sixth,  than  I  laid  my  finger 
on  Ezra.  Was  it  no  provoking  ?  Onybody  can 
turn  up  Genesis,  but  it  needs  an  able-bodied  man 
to  find  Ezra." 

"He  preached  on  the  Fall,"  Elspeth  said,  "  for 
an  hour  and  twenty-five  minutes,  but  powerful 
though  he  was  I  would  rather  he  had  telled  us 
what  made  him  gie  the  go-by  to  Ezra." 

"  All  I  can  say,"  said  Waster  Lunny,  "  is  that 
1  never  heard  him  mair  awe-inspiring.  Whaur 
has  he  got  sic  a  knowledge  of  women  ?  He 
riddled  them,  he  fair  riddled  them,  till  I  was 
ashamed  o'  being  married." 


First  Sermon  Against  Women  117 

"  It's  easy  kent  whaur  he  got  his  knowledge 
of  women,"  Birse  explained,  "  it's  a'  in  the  orig- 
inal Hebrew.  You  can  howk  ony  mortal  thing 
out  o'  the  original  Hebrew,  the  which  all  minis- 
ters hae  at  their  finger  ends.  What  else  makes 
them  ken  to  jump  a  verse  now  and  then  when 
giving  out  a  psalm  ?  " 

"  It  wasna  women  like  me  he  denounced," 
Eispeth  insisted,  "  but  young  lassies  that  leads 
men  astray  wi'  their  abominable  wheedling  ways." 

"  Tod,"  said  her  husband,  "  if  they  try  their 
hands  on  Mr.  Dishart  they'll  meet  their  match." 

"  They  will,"  chuckled  the  post.  "  The  He- 
brew's a  grand  thing,  though  teuch,  I'm  telled, 
michty  teuch." 

"  His  sublimest  burst,"  Waster  Lunny  came 
back  to  tell  me,  "  was  about  the  beauty  o'  the 
soul  being  everything  and  the  beauty  o'  the  face 
no  worth  a  snuff.  What  a  scorn  he  has  for  bonny 
faces  and  toom  souls  !  I  dinna  deny  but  what  a 
bonny  face  fell  takes  me,  but  Mr.  Dishart  wouldna 
gie  a  blade  o'  grass  for't.  Ay,  and  I  used  to  think 
that  in  their  foolishness  about  women  there  was 
dagont  little  differ  atween  the  unlearned  and  the 
highly  edicated." 

The  gossip  about  Gavin  brought  hitherto  to 
the  schoolhouse  had  been  as  bread  to  me,  but 
this  I  did  not  like.  For  a  minister  to  behave 
thus  was  as  unsettling  to  us  as  a  change  of  Gov- 
ernment to  Londoners,  and  I  decided  to  give  my 
scholars  a  hohday  on  the  morrow  and  tramp  into 
the  town  for  fuller  news.  But  all  through  the 
night  it  snowed,  and  next  day,  and  then  inter- 
mittently for  many  days,  and  every  fall  took  the 


ii8  The  Little  Minister 

school  miles  farther  away  from  Thrums.  Birse 
and  the  crows  had  now  the  glen  road  to  them- 
selves, and  even  Birse  had  twice  or  thrice  to  bed 
with  me.  At  these  times,  had  he  not  been  so 
interested  in  describing  his  progress  through  the 
snow,  maintaining  that  the  crying  want  of  our 
glen  road  was  palings  for  postmen  to  kick  their 
feet  against,  he  must  have  wondered  why  I  always 
turned  the  talk  to  the  Auld  Licht  minister. 

"Ony  explanation  o'  his  sudden  change  o' 
texts  ? "  Birse  said,  repeating  my  question. 
"  Tod,  and  there  is  and  to  spare,  for  I  hear  tell 
there's  saxteen  explanations  in  the  Tenements 
alone.  As  Tammas  Haggart  says,  that's  a  bless- 
ing, for  if  there  had  just  been  twa  explanations 
the  kirk  micht  hae  split  on  them." 

"Ay,"  he  said  at  another  time,  "twa  or  three 
even  dared  to  question  the  minister,  but  I'm 
thinking  they  made  nothing  o't.  The  majority 
agrees  that  he  was  just  inspired  to  change  his 
text.  But  Lang  Tammas  is  dour.  Tammas 
telled  the  session  a  queer  thing.  He  says  that 
after  the  diet  o'  worship  on  that  eventful  after- 
noon Mr.  Dishart  carried  the  Bible  out  o'  the 
pulpit  instead  o'  leaving  that  duty  as  usual  to  the 
kirk  officer.  Weel,  Tammas,  being  precentor, 
has  a  richt,  as  you  ken,  to  leave  the  kirk  by  the 
session-house  door,  just  like  the  minister  himsel'. 
He  did  so  that  afternoon,  and  what,  think  you, 
did  he  see  ?  He  saw  Mr.  Dishart  tearing  a  page 
out  o'  the  Bible,  and  flinging  it  savagely  into  the 
session-house  fire.  You  dinna  credit  it  ?  Weel, 
it's  staggering,  but  there's  Hendry  Munn's  evi- 
dence, too.     Hendry  took  his  first  chance  o'  look- 


First  Sermon  Against  Women  119 

ing  up  Ezra  in  the  minister's  Bible,  and,  behold,  the 
page  wi'  the  eighth  chapter  was  gone.  Them  that 
thinks  Tammas  wasna  blind  wi'  excitement  bauds 
it  had  been  Ezra  eighth  that  gaed  into  the  fire. 
Onyway,  there's  no  doubt  about  the  page's  being 
missing,  for  whatever  excitement  Tammas  was  in, 
Hendry  was  as  cool  as  ever." 

A  week  later  Birse  told  me  that  the  congrega- 
tion had  decided  to  regard  the  incident  as  adding 
lustre  to  their  kirk.  This  was  largely,  I  fear,  be- 
cause it  could  then  be  used  to  belittle  the  Estab- 
lished minister.  That  fervent  Auld  Licht,  Snecky 
Hobart,  feeling  that  Gavin's  action  was  unsound, 
had  gone  on  the  following  Sabbath  to  the  parish 
kirk  and  sat  under  Mr.  Duthie.  But  Mr.  Duthie 
was  a  close  reader,  so  that  Snecky  flung  himself 
about  in  his  pew  in  misery.  The  minister  con- 
cluded his  sermon  with  these  words  :  "  But  on 
this  subject  I  will  say  no  more  at  present." 
"  Because  you  canna,"  Snecky  roared,  and 
strutted  out  of  the  church.  Comparing  the  two 
scenes,  it  is  obvious  that  the  Auld  Lichts  had 
won  a  victory.  After  preaching  impromptu  for 
an  hour  and  twenty-five  minutes,  it  could  never 
be  said  of  Gavin  that  he  needed  to  read.  He 
became  more  popular  than  ever.  Yet  the  change 
of  texts  was  not  forgotten.  If  in  the  future  any 
other  indictments  were  brought  against  him,  it 
would  certainly  be  pinned  to  them. 

1  marvelled  long  over  Gavin's  jump  from  Ezra 
to  Genesis,  and  at  this  his  first  philippic  against 
Woman,  but  I  have  known  the  cause  for  many 
a  year.  The  Bible  was  the  one  that  had  lain  on 
the  summer-seat  while  the  Egyptian  hid  there.     It 


I20  The   Little   Minister 

was  the  great  pulpit  Bible  which  remains  in  the 
church  as  a  rule,  but  Gavin  had  taken  it  home 
the  previous  day  to  make  some  of  its  loose  pages 
secure  with  paste.  He  had  studied  from  it  on 
the  day  preceding  the  riot,  but  had  used  a  small 
Bible  during  the  rest  of  the  week.  When  he 
turned  in  the  pulpit  to  Ezra,  where  he  had  left 
the  large  Bible  open  in  the  summer-seat,  he  found 
this  scrawled  across  chapter  eight : 

"  I  will  never  tell  who  flung  the  clod  at  Cap- 
tain Halliwell.  But  why  did  you  fling  it?  I 
will  never  tell  that  you  allowed  me  to  be  called 
Mrs.  Dishart  before  witnesses.  But  is  not  this  a 
Scotch  marriage?     Signed,  Babbie  the  Egyptian." 


CHAPTER   XI 

TELLS    IN    A    WHISPER    OF     MAn's     FALL    DURING 
THE    CURLING    SEASON 

NO  snow  could  be  seen  in  Thrums  by  the 
beginning  of  the  year,  though  clods  of  it 
lay  in  Waster  Lunny's  fields,  where  his  hens 
wandered  all  day  as  if  looking  for  something 
they  had  dropped.  A  black  frost  had  set  in,  and 
one  walking  on  the  glen  road  could  imagine  that 
through  the  cracks  in  it,  he  saw  a  loch  glistening. 
From  my  door  I  could  hear  the  roar  of  curling 
stones  at  Rashie-bog,  which  is  almost  four  miles 
nearer  Thrums.  On  the  day  I  am  recalling,  I 
see  that  I  only  made  one  entry  in  my  diary,  "  At 
last  bought  Waster  Lunny's  bantams."  Well 
do  'I  remember  the  transaction,  and  no  wonder, 
for  I  had  all  but  bought  the  bantams  every  day 
for  a  six  months. 

About  noon  the  doctor's  dog-cart  was  observed 
by  all  the  Tenements  standing  at  the  Auld  Licht 
manse.  The  various  surmises  were  wrong.  Mar- 
garet had  not  been  suddenly  taken  ill ;  Jean  had 
not  swallowed  a  darning-needle ;  the  minister 
had  not  walked  out  at  his  study  window  in  a 
moment  of  sublime  thought.  Gavin  stepped 
into  the  dog-cart,  which  at  once  drove  off  in  the 
direction  of  Rashie-bog,  but  equally  in  error  were 


12!2  The   Little   Minister 

those  who  said  that  the  doctor  was  making  a 
curler  of  him. 

There  was,  however,  ground  for  gossip ;  for 
Thrums  folk  seldom  called  in  a  doctor  until  it 
was  too  late  to  cure  them,  and  McQueen  was  not 
the  man  to  pay  social  visits.  Of  his  skill  we 
knew  fearsome  stories,  as  that,  by  looking  at 
Archie  AUardyce,  who  had  come  to  broken  bones 
on  a  ladder,  he  discovered  which  rung  Archie  fell 
from.  When  he  entered  a  stuffy  room  he  would 
poke  his  staff  through  the  window  to  let  in  fresh 
air,  and  then  fling  down  a  shilling  to  pay  for  the 
breakage.  He  was  deaf  in  the  right  ear,  and 
therefore  usually  took  the  left  side  of  prosy 
people,  thus,  as  he  explained,  making  a  blessing 
of  an  aflliction.  "  A  pity  I  don't  hear  better  ?  " 
I  have  heard  him  say.  "  Not  at  all.  If  my 
misfortune,  as  you  call  it,  were  to  be  removed, 
you  can't  conceive  how  I  should  miss  my  deaf 
ear."  He  was  a  fine  fellow,  though  brusque, 
and  I  never  saw  him  without  his  pipe  until  two 
days  before  we  buried  him,  which  was  five  and 
twenty  vears  ago  come  Martinmas. 

"  We're  all  quite  weel,"  Jean  said,  apprehen- 
sively, as  she  answered  his  knock  on  the  manse 
door,  and  she  tried  to  be  pleasant,  too,  for  well 
she  knew  that,  if  a  doctor  willed  it,  she  could  have 
fever  in  five  minutes. 

"Ay,  Jean,  I'll  soon  alter  that,"  he  replied, 
ferociously.     "  Is  the  master  in  ?  " 

"  He's  at  his  sermon,"  Jean  said,  with  impor- 
tance. 

To  interrupt  the  minister  at  such  a  moment 
seemed  sacrilege  to  her,  for  her  up-bringing  had 


The  Curling  Season  123 

been  good.  Her  mother  had  once  fainted  in  the 
church,  but  though  the  family's  distress  was  great, 
they  neither  bore  her  out,  nor  signed  to  the  kirk 
officer  to  bring  water.  They  propped  her  up  in 
the  pew  in  a  respectful  attitude,  joining  in  the 
singing  meanwhile,  and  she  recovered  in  time  to 
look  up  2d  Chronicles,  twenty-first  and  seventh. 

"  Tell  him  I  want  to  speak  to  him  at  the  door," 
said  the  doctor,  fiercely,  "or  I'll  bleed  you  this 
minute," 

McQueen  would  not  enter,  because  his  horse 
might  have  seized  the  opportunity  to  return 
stablewards.  At  the  houses  where  it  was  accus- 
tomed to  stop,  it  drew  up  of  its  own  accord, 
knowing  where  the  doctor's  "  cases  "  were  as 
well  as  himself,  but  it  resented  new  patients. 

"You  like  misery,  I  think,  Mr.  Dishart,"  Mc- 
Queen said,  when  Gavin  came  to  him,  "  at  least 
I  am  always  finding  you  in  the  thick  of  it,  and 
that  is  why  I  am  here  now.  I  have  a  rare  job  for 
you  if  you  will  jump  into  the  machine.  You 
know  Nanny  Webster,  who  lives  on  the  edge  of 
Windyghoul  ?  No,  you  don't,  for  she  belongs  to 
the  other  kirk.  Well,  at  all  events,  you  know 
her  brother,  Sanders,  the  mole-catcher  ?  " 

"  I  remember  him.  You  mean  the  man  who 
boasted  so  much  about  seeing  a  ball  at  Lord  Rin- 
toul's  place  ?  " 

"  The  same,  and,  as  you  may  know,  his  boast- 
ing about  maltreating  policemen  whom  he  never 
saw  led  to  his  being  sentenced  to  nine  months  in 
gaol  lately." 

"  That  is  the  man,"  said  Gavin.  "  I  never 
liked  him." 


124  The   Little   Minister 

"  No,  but  his  sister  did,"  McQueen  answered, 
drily,  "  and  with  reason,  for  he  was  her  bread- 
winner, and  now  she  is  starving." 

"  Anything  I  can  give  her  —  " 

"  Would  be  too  little,  sir." 

"  But  the  neighbours —  " 

"  She  has  few  near  her,  and  though  the  Thrums 
poor  help  each  other  bravely,  they  are  at  present 
nigh  as  needy  as  herself.  Nanny  is  coming  to  the 
poorhouse,  Mr.  Dishart." 

"  God  help  her  !  "  exclaimed  Gavin. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  the  doctor,  trying  to  make 
himself  a  hard  man.  "  She  will  be  properly 
looked  after  there,  and  —  and  in  time  she  will 
like  it." 

"  Don't  let  my  mother  hear  you  speaking  of 
taking  an  old  woman  to  that  place,"  Gavin  said, 
looking  anxiously  up  the  stair.  I  cannot  pretend 
that  Margaret  never  listened. 

"  You  all  speak  as  if  the  poorhouse  was  a  gaol," 
the  doctor  said,  testily.  "  But  so  far  as  Nanny  is 
concerned,  everything  is  arranged.  I  promised  to 
drive  her  to  the  poorhouse  to-day,  and  she  is 
waiting  for  me  now.  Don't  look  at  me  as  if  I 
was  a  brute.  She  is  to  take  some  of  her  things 
with  her  to  the  poorhouse,  and  the  rest  is  to  be 
let"t  until  Sanders's  return,  when  she  may  rejoin 
him.     At  least  we  said  that  to  her  to  comfort  her." 

"  You  want  me  to  go  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  though  I  warn  you  it  may  be  a  distress- 
ing scene;  indeed,  the  truth  is  that  I  am  loth  to 
face  Nanny  alone  to-day.  Mr.  Duthie  should 
have  accompanied  me,  for  the  Websters  are 
Established  Kirk ;  ay,  and  so  he  would  if  Rashie- 


The  Curling  Season  12,5 

bog  had  not  been  bearing.  A  terrible  snare  this 
curling,  Mr.  Dishart,"  —  here  the  doctor  sighed, 
—  "I  have  known  Mr.  Duthie  wait  until  mid- 
night struck  on  Sabbath  and  then  be  off  to 
Rashie-bog  with  a  torch." 

"  I  will  go  with  you,"  Gavin  said,  putting  on 
his  coat. 

"  Jump  in  then.  You  won't  smoke  ^  I  never 
see  a  respectable  man  not  smoking,  sir,  but  I  feel 
indignant  with  him  for  such  sheer  waste  of  time." 

Gavin  smiled  at  this,  and  Snecky  Hobart,  who 
happened  to  be  keeking  over  the  manse  dyke, 
bore  the  news  to  the  Tenements. 

"I'll  no  sleep  the  nicht,"  Snecky  said,  "for 
wondering  what  made  the  minister  lauch.  Ay, 
it  would  be  no  trifle." 

A  minister,  it  is  certain,  who  wore  a  smile  on 
his  face  would  never  have  been  called  to  the 
Auld  Licht  kirk,  for  life  is  a  wrestle  with  the 
devil,  and  only  the  frivolous  think  to  throw  him 
without  taking  off  their  coats.  Yet,  though 
Gavin's  zeal  was  what  the  congregation  rever- 
enced, many  loved  him  privately  for  his  boyish- 
ness. He  could  unbend  at  marriages,  of  which 
he  had  six  on  the  last  day  of  the  year,  and  at 
every  one  of  them  he  joked  (the  same  joke)  like 
a  layman.  Some  did  not  approve  of  his  playing 
at  the  teetotum  for  ten  minutes  with  Kitty  Dun- 
das's  invalid  son,  but  the  way  Kitty  boasted  about 
it  would  have  disgusted  anybody.  At  the  pres- 
ent day  there  are  probably  a  score  of  Gavins  in 
Thrums,  all  called  after  the  little  minister,  and 
there  is  one  Gavinia,  whom  he  hesitated  to  chris- 
ten.     He   made    humorous  remarks  (the   same 


126  The  Little  Minister 

remark)  about  all  these  children,  and  his  smile 
as  he  patted  their  heads  was  for  thinking  over 
when  one's  work  was  done  for  the  day. 

The  doctor's  horse  clattered  up  the  Backwynd 
noisily,  as  if  a  minister  behind  made  no  difference 
to  it.  Instead  of  climbing  the  Roods,  however, 
the  nearest  way  to  Nanny's,  it  went  westward, 
which  Gavin,  in  a  reverie,  did  not  notice.  The 
truth  must  be  told.  The  Egyptian  was  again  in 
his  head. 

"  Have  I  fallen  deaf  in  the  left  ear,  too?  "  said 
the  doctor,  "  I  see  your  lips  moving,  but  I  don't 
catch  a  syllable." 

Gavin  started,  coloured,  and  flung  the  gypsy 
out  of  the  trap. 

"  Why  are  we  not  going  up  the  Roods  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Well,"  said  the  doctor,  slowly,  "  at  the  top 
of  the  Roods  there  is  a  stance  for  circuses,  and 
this  old  beast  of  mine  won't  pass  it.  You  know, 
unless  you  are  behind  in  the  clashes  and  clavers 
of  Thrums,  that  I  bought  her  from  the  manager 
of  a  travelling  show.  She  was  the  horse  ('  Light- 
ning' they  called  her)  that  galloped  round  the 
ring  at  a  mile  an  hour,  and  so  at  the  top  of 
the  Roods  she  is  still  unmanageable.  She  once 
dragged  me  to  the  scene  of  her  former  triumphs, 
and  went  revolving  round  It,  dragging  the 
machine  after  her." 

"If  you  had  not  explained  that,"  said  Gavin, 
"  I  might  have  thought  that  you  wanted  to  pass 
by  Rashie-bog." 

The  doctor,  indeed,  was  already  standing  up 
to  catch  a  first  glimpse  of  the  curlers. 


The  Curling  Season  127 

"  Well,"  he  admitted,  "  I  might  have  man- 
aged to  pass  the  circus  ring,  though  what  I  have 
told  you  is  true.  However,  I  have  not  come 
this  way  merely  to  see  how  the  match  is  going. 
I  want  to  shame  Mr.  Duthie  for  neglecting  his 
duty.  It  will  help  me  to  do  mine,  for  the  Lord 
knows  I  am  finding  it  hard,  with  the  music  of 
these  stones  in  my  ears." 

"  I  never  saw  it  played  before,"  Gavin  said, 
standing  up  in  his  turn.  "  What  a  din  they 
make  !     McQiieen,  I  believe  they  are  fighting  !  " 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  excited  doctor,  "  they  are 
just  a  bit  daft.  That's  the  proper  spirit  for  the 
game.  Look,  that's  the  baron-bailie  near  stand- 
ing on  his  head,  and  there's  Mr.  Duthie  off  his 
head  a'  thegither.  Yon's  twa  weavers  and  a 
mason  cursing  the  laird,  an  the  man  wi'  the 
besom  is  the   Master  of  Crumnathie." 

"  A  democracy,  at  all  events,"  said  Gavin. 

"  By  no  means,"  said  the  doctor,  "  it's  an  aris- 
tocracy of  intellect.  Gee  up.  Lightning,  or  the 
frost  will  be  gone  before  we  are  there." 

"  It  is  my  opinion,  doctor,"  said  Gavin,  "  that 
you  will  have  bones  to  set  before  that  game  is 
finished.      I  can  see  nothing  but  legs  now." 

"  Don't  say  a  word  against  curling,  sir,  to  me," 
said  McQueen,  whom  the  sight  of  a  game  in 
which  he  must  not  play  had  turned  crusty. 
"  Dangerous  !  It's  the  best  medicine  I  know 
of.  Look  at  that  man  coming  across  the  field. 
It  is  Jo  Strachan.  Well,  sir,  curling  saved  Jo's 
life  after  I  had  given  him  up.  You  don't  believe 
me  ?  Hie,  Jo,  Jo  Strachan,  come  here  and  tell  the 
minister  how  curling  put  you  on  your  legs  again." 


128  The   Little   Minister 

Strachan  came  forward,  —  a  tough,  little,  wiz- 
ened man,  with  red  flannel  round  his  ears  to  keep 
out  the  cold. 

"  It's  gospel  what  the  doctor  says,  Mr.  Dish- 
art,"  he  declared.  "  Me  and  my  brither  Sandy 
w^as  baith  ill,  and  in  the  same  bed,  and  the  doctor 
had  hopes  o'  Sandy,  but  nane  o'  me.  Ay,  weel, 
when  I  heard  that,  I  thocht  I  micht  as  weel  die 
on  the  ice  as  in  my  bed,  so  I  up  and  on  wi'  my 
claethes.  Sandy  was  mad  at  me,  for  he  was  no 
curler,  and  he  says,  '  Jo  Strachan,  if  you  gang  to 
Rashie-bog,  you'll  assuredly  be  brocht  hame  a 
corp.'  I  didna  heed  him,  though,  and  off  I 
gaed." 

"  And  I  see  you  did  not  die,"  said  Gavin. 

"  Not  me,"  answered  the  fish  cadger,  with  a 
grin,  "  Na,  but  the  joke  o't  is,  it  was  Sandy 
that  died." 

"  Not  the  joke,  Jo,"  corrected  the  doctor,  "  the 
moral." 

"Ay,  the  moral;  I'm  aye  forgetting  the 
word." 

McQiieen,  enjoying  Gavin's  discomfiture, 
turned  Lightning  down  the  Rashie-bog  road, 
which  would  be  impassable  as  soon  as  the  thaw 
came.  In  summer  Rashie-bog  is  several  fields 
in  which  a  cart  does  not  sink  unless  it  stands 
still,  but  in  winter  it  is  a  loch  with  here  and 
there  a  spring,  where  dead  men  are  said  to  lie. 
There  are  no  rushes  at  its  east  end,  and  here  the 
dogcart  drew  up  near  the  curlers,  a  crowd  of  men 
dancing,  screaming,  shaking  their  fists  and  sweep- 
ing, while  half  a  hundred  onlookers  got  in  their 
way,  gesticulating  and  advising. 


The  Curling  Season  129 

"  Hold  me  tight,"  the  doctor  whispered  to 
Gavin,  "or  I'll  be  leaving  you  to  drive  Nanny 
to  the  poorhouse  by  yourself." 

He  had  no  sooner  said  this,  than  he  tried  to 
jump  out  of  the  trap. 

"  You  donnert  fule,  John  Robbie,"  he  shouted 
to  a  player,  "  soop  her  up,  man,  soop  her  up  ;  no, 
no,  dinna,  dinna ;  leave  her  alane.  Bailie,  leave 
her  alane,  you  blazing  idiot.  Mr.  Dishart,  let 
me  go  ;  what  do  you  mean,  sir,  by  hanging  on  to 
my  coat  tails  ?  Dang  it  all,  Duthie's  winning. 
He  has  it,  he  has  it !  " 

"  You're  to  play,  doctor  ?  "  some  cried,  running 
to  the  dog-cart.     "  We  hae  missed  you  sair." 

"  Jeames,  I  —  I  —     No,  I  daurna." 

"  Then  we  get  our  licks.  I  never  saw  the 
minister  in  sic  form.  We  can  do  nothing  against 
him." 

"Then,"  cried  McQueen,  "I'll  play.  Come 
what  will,  I'll  play.  Let  go  my  tails,  Mr.  Dish- 
art,  or  I'll  cut  them  off.  Duty  ?  Fiddle- 
sticks ! " 

"  Shame  on  you,  sir,"  said  Gavin ;  "  yes,  and 
on  you  others  who  would  entice  him  from  his 
duty." 

"  Shame  !  "  the  doctor  cried.  "  Look  at  Mr. 
Duthie.  Is  he  ashamed  ?  And  yet  that  man 
has  been  reproving  me  for  a  twelvemonths,  be- 
cause I've  refused  to  become  one  of  his  elders. 
Duthie,"  he  shouted,  "  think  shame  of  yourself 
for  curling  this  day." 

Mr.  Duthie  had  carefully  turned  his  back  to 
the  trap,  for  Gavin's  presence  in  it  annoyed  him. 
We  seldom  care  to  be  reminded  of  our  duty  by 


ijo  The   Little   Minister 

seeing  another  do  it.  Now,  however,  he  ad- 
vanced to  the  dog-cart,  taking  the  far  side  of 
Gavin. 

"  Put  on  your  coat,  Mr.  Duthie,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  and  come  with  me  to  Nanny  Webster's. 
You  promised." 

Mr.  Duthie  looked  quizzically  at  Gavin,  and 
then  at  the  sky. 

"  The  thaw  may  come  at  any  moment,"  he 
said. 

"  I  think  the  frost  is  to  hold,"  said  Gavin. 

"It  may  hold  over  to-morrow,"  Mr.  Duthie 
admitted ;  "  but  to-morrow's  the  Sabbath,  and  so 
a  lost  day." 

"  A  what  ?  "  exclaimed  Gavin,  horrified. 

"  I  only  mean,"  Mr.  Duthie  answered,  colour- 
ing, "  that  we  can't  curl  on  the  Lord's  day.  As 
for  what  it  may  be  like  on  Monday,  no  one  can 
say.  No,  doctor,  I  won't  risk  it.  We're  in  the 
middle  of  a  game,  man." 

Gavin  looked  very  grave. 

"  I  see  what  you  are  thinking,  Mr.  Dishart," 
the  old  minister  said,  doggedly  ;  "  but  then,  you 
don't  curl.  You  are  very  wise.  I  have  forbidden 
my  sons  to  curl." 

"  Then  you  openly  snap  your  fingers  at  your 
duty,  Mr.  Duthie  ? "  said  the  doctor,  loftily. 
("  You  can  let  go  my  tails  now,  Mr.  Dishart,  for 
the  madness  has  passed.") 

"  None  of  your  virtuous  airs,  McQueen,"  said 
Mr.  Duthie,  hotly.  "  What  was  the  name  of 
the  doctor  that  warned  women  never  to  have 
bairns  while  it  was  hauding?" 

"  And  what,"   retorted    McQiieen,   "  was    the 


The  Curling  Season  131 

name  of  the  minister  that  told  his  session  he 
would  neither  preach  nor  pray  while  the  black 
frost  lasted  ? " 

"  Hoots,  doctor,"  said  Duthie,  "  don't  lose 
your  temper  because  I'm  in  such  form." 

"  Don't  lose  yours,  Duthie,  because  I  aye  beat 
you. 

"  You  beat  me,  McQueen !  Go  home,  sir, 
and  don't  talk  havers.     Who  beat  you  at  —  " 

"Who  made  you  sing  small  at  —  " 

"Who  won  —  " 

"Who  —  " 

"Who  —  " 

"  I'll  play  you  on  Monday  for  whatever  you 
like  !  "  shrieked  the  doctor. 

"  If  it  holds,"  cried  the  minister,  "  I'll  be  here 
the  whole  day.  Name  the  stakes  yourself.  A 
stone  ? " 

"  No,"  the  doctor  said,  "  but  I'll  tell  you  what 
we'll  play  for.  You've  been  dinging  me  doited 
about  that  eldership,  and  we'll  play  for't.  If  you 
win  I  accept  office," 

"  Done,"  said  the  minister,  recklessly. 

The  dog-cart  was  now  turned  towards  Windy- 
ghoul,  its  driver  once  more  good-humoured,  but 
Gavin  silent. 

"  You  would  have  been  the  better  of  my  deaf 
ear  just  now,  Mr.  Dishart,"  McQueen  said  after 
the  loch  had  been  left  behind.  "Ay,  and  I'm 
thinking  my  pipe  would  soothe  you.  But  don't 
take  it  so  much  to  heart,  man.  I'll  lick  him 
easily.  He's  a  decent  man,  the  minister,  but 
vain  of  his  play,  ridiculously  vain.  However,  I 
think  the  sight  of  you,  in  the  place  that  should 


132  The   Little   Minister 

have  been  his,  has  broken  his  nerve  for  this  day, 
and  our  side  may  win  yet." 

"  I  believe,"  Gavin  said,  with  sudden  enlight- 
enment, "  that  you  brought  me  here  for  that 
purpose." 

"Maybe,"  chuckled  the  doctor;  "maybe." 
Then  he  changed  the  subject  suddenly.  "  Mr. 
Dishart,"  he  asked,  "  were  you  ever  in  love.^  " 

"  Never  !  "  answered  Gavin,  violently. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  doctor,  "  don't  terrify 
the  horse.  I  have  been  in  love  myself.  It's 
bad,  but  it's  nothing  to  curling." 


CHAPTER   XII 

TRAGEDY    OF    A    MUD     HOUSE 

THE  dog-cart  bumped  between  the  trees  of 
Caddam,  flinging  Gavin  and  the  doctor  at 
each  other  as  a  wheel  rose  on  some  beech-root  or 
sank  for  a  moment  in  a  pool.  I  suppose  the 
wood  was  a  pretty  sight  that  day,  the  pines  only 
white  where  they  had  met  the  snow,  as  if  the 
numbed  painter  had  left  his  work  unfinished,  the 
brittle  twigs  snapping  overhead,  the  water  as 
black  as  tar.  But  it  matters  little  what  the 
wood  was  like.  Within  a  squirrel's  leap  of  it 
an  old  woman  was  standing  at  the  door  of  a 
mud  house  listening  for  the  approach  of  the 
trap  that  was  to  take  her  to  the  poorhouse. 
Can  you  think  of  the  beauty  of  the  day  now  ? 
Nanny  was  not  crying.  She  had  redd  up  her 
house  for  the  last  time  and  put  on  her  black 
merino.  Her  mouth  was  wide  open  while  she 
listened.  If  you  had  addressed  her  you  would 
have  thought  her  polite  and  stupid.  Look  at  her. 
A  flabby-faced  woman  she  is  now,  with  a  swollen 
body,  and  no  one  has  heeded  her  much  these 
thirty  years.  I  can  tell  you  something ;  it  is 
almost  droll.  Nanny  Webster  was  once  a  gay 
flirt,  and  in  Airlie  Square  there  is  a  weaver  with 

133 


1J4  The   Little   Minister 

an  unsteady  head  who  thought  all  the  earth  of 
her.  His  loom  has  taken  a  foot  from  his  stature, 
and  gone  are  Nanny's  raven  locks  on  which  he 
used  to  place  his  adoring  hand.  Down  in  Airlie 
Square  he  is  weaving  for  his  life,  and  here  is 
Nanny,  ripe  for  the  poorhouse,  and  between  them 
is  the  hill  where  they  were  lovers.  That  is  all 
the  story  save  that  when  Nanny  heard  the  dog- 
cart she  screamed. 

No  neighbour  was  with  her.  If  you  think  this 
hard,  it  is  because  you  do  not  understand.  Per- 
haps Nanny  had  never  been  very  lovable  except  to 
one  man,  and  him,  it  is  said,  she  lost  through  her 
own  vanity ;  but  there  was  much  in  her  to  like. 
The  neighbours,  of  whom  there  were  two  not  a 
hundred  yards  away,  would  have  been  with  her 
now,  but  they  feared  to  hurt  her  feelings.  No 
heart  opens  to  sympathy  without  letting  in 
delicacy,  and  these  poor  people  knew  that 
Nanny  would  not  like  them  to  see  her  being 
taken  away.  For  a  week  they  had  been  aware 
of  what  was  coming,  and  they  had  been  most 
kind  to  her,  but  that  hideous  word,  the  poor- 
house,  they  had  not  uttered.  Poorhouse  is  not 
to  be  spoken  in  Thrums,  though  it  is  nothing  to 
tell  a  man  that  you  see  death  in  his  face.  Did 
Nanny  think  they  knew  when  she  was  going  ?  was  a 
question  they  whispered  to  each  other,  and  her 
suffering  eyes  cut  scars  on  their  hearts.  So  now 
that  the  hour  had  come  they  called  their  children 
into  their  houses  and  pulled  down  their  blinds. 

"  It  you  would  like  to  see  her  by  yourself,"  the 
doctor  said  eagerly,  to  Gavin,  as  the  horse  drew 
up   at   Nanny's  gate,  "  I'll  wait  with   the   horse. 


Tragedy  of  a  Mud  House  135 

Not,"  he  added,  hastily,  "  that  I  feel  sorry  for 
her.     We  are  doing  her  a  kindness." 

They  dismounted  together,  however,  and 
Nanny,  who  had  run  from  the  trap  into  the 
house,  watched   them   from   her  window. 

McQueen  saw  her  and  said,  glumly,  "  I  should 
have  come  alone,  for  if  you  pray  she  is  sure  to 
break  down.  Mr.  Dishart,  could  you  not  pray 
cheerfully  ?  " 

"  You  don't  look  very  cheerful  yourself," 
Gavin  said,  sadly. 

"  Nonsense,"  answered  the  doctor.  "  I  have 
no  patience  with  this  false  sentiment.  Stand  still, 
Lightning,  and  be  thankful  you  are  not  your 
master  to-day." 

The  door  stood  open,  and  Nanny  was  crouch- 
ing against  the  opposite  wall  of  the  room,  such  a 
poor,  dull  kitchen,  that  you  would  have  thought 
the  furniture  had  still  to  be  brought  into  it. 
The  blanket  and  the  piece  of  old  carpet  that  was 
Nanny's  coverlet  were  already  packed  in  her  box. 
The  plate  rack  was  empty.  Only  the  round  table 
and  the  two  chairs,  and  the  stools  and  some 
pans,  were  being  left  behind. 

"  Well,  Nanny,"  the  doctor  said,  trying  to 
bluster,  "  I  have  come,  and  you  see  Mr.  Dishart 
is  with  me." 

Nanny  rose  bravely.  She  knew  the  doctor 
was  good  to  her,  and  she  wanted  to  thank  him. 
I  have  not  seen  a  great  deal  of  the  world  myself, 
but  often  the  sweet  politeness  of  the  aged  poor 
has  struck  me  as  beautiful.  Nanny  dropped  a 
curtesy,  an  ungainly  one  maybe,  but  it  was  an 
old  woman  giving  the  best  she  had. 


ij6  The   Little   Minister 

"  Thank  vou  kindly,  sirs,"  she  said ;  and  then 
two  pairs  of  eyes  dropped  before  hers. 

"  Please  to  take  a  chair,"  she  added,  timidly. 
It  is  strange  to  know  that  at  that  awful  moment, 
for  let  none  tell  me  it  was  less  than  awful,  the  old 
woman  was  the  one  who  could  speak. 

Both  men  sat  down,  for  they  would  have  hurt 
Nanny  by  remaining  standing.  Some  ministers 
would  have  known  the  right  thing  to  say  to  her, 
but  Gavin  dared  not  let  himself  speak.  I  have 
again  to  remind  you  that  he  was  only  one  and 
twentv. 

"I'm  drouthy,  Nanny,"  the  doctor  said,  to 
give  her  something  to  do,  "  and  I  would  be 
obliged  for  a  drink  of  water." 

Nanny  hastened  to  the  pan  that  stood  behind 
her  door,  but  stopped  before  she  reached  it. 

"It's  toom,"'she  said,  "I  —  I  didna  think  I 
needed  to  fill  it  this  morning."  She  caught  the 
doctor's  eye,  and  could  only  half  restrain  a  sob. 
"  I  couldna  help  that,"  she  said,  apologetically. 
"  I'm  richt  angry  at  myself  for  being  so  ungrateful 
like." 

T"he  doctor  thought  it  best  that  they  should 
depart  at  once.      He  rose. 

"  Oh,  no,  doctor,"  cried  Nanny,  in  alarm. 

"  But  you  are  ready  ^  " 

"  Ay,"  she  said,  "  I  have  been  ready  this  twa 
hours,  but  you  micht  wait  a  minute.  Hendry 
Munn  and  Andrew  AUardyce  is  coming  yont  the 
road,  and  they  would  see  me." 

"  Wait,  doctor,"   Gavin  said. 

"  Thank  you  kindly,  sir,"  answered  Nanny. 

"  But,  Nanny,"  the  doctor  said,  "  you    must 


Tragedy  of  a  Mud  House  137 

remember  what  I  told  you  about  the  poo — , 
about  the  place  you  are  going  to.  It  is  a  fine 
house,  and  you  will  be  very  happy  in  it." 

"  Ay,  I'll  be  happy  in't,"  Nanny  faltered,  "  but, 
doctor,  if  I  could  just  hae  bidden  on  here  though 
I  wasna  happy  !  " 

"  Think  of  the  food  you  will  get ;  broth  nearly 
every  day." 

"  It  —  it'll  be  terrible  enjoyable,"  Nanny 
said. 

"  And  there  will  be  pleasant  company  for  you 
always,"  continued  the  doctor,  "  and  a  nice  room 
to  sit  in.  Why,  after  you  have  been  there  a  week 
you  won't  be  the  same  woman." 

"  That's  it !  "  cried  Nanny,  with  sudden  pas- 
sion. "  Na,  na  ;  I'll  be  a  woman  on  the  poor's 
rates.  Oh,  mither,  mither,  you  little  thocht 
when  you  bore  me  that  I  would  come  to  this  !  " 

"  Nanny,"  the  doctor  said,  rising  again,  "  I  am 
ashamed  of  you." 

"  I  humbly  speir  your  forgiveness,  sir,"  she 
said,  "and  you  micht  bide  just  a  wee  yet.  I've 
been  ready  to  gang  these  twa  hours,  but  now  that 
the  machine  is  at  the  gate,  I  dinna  ken  how  it  is, 
but  I'm  terrible  sweer  to  come  awa'.  Oh,  Mr. 
Dishart,  it's  richt  true  what  the  doctor  says  about 
the  —  the  place,  but  I  canna  just  take  it  in.  I'm 
—  I'm  gey  auld." 

"  You  will  often  get  out  to  see  your  friends," 
was  all  Gavin  could  say. 

"  Na,  na,  na,"  she  cried,  "dinna  say  that ;  I'll 
gang,  but  you  mauna  bid  me  ever  come  out, 
except  in  a  hearse.  Dinna  let  onybody  in  Thrums 
look  on  my  face  again." 


138  The   Little   Minister 

"  We  must  go,"  said  the  doctor,  firmly.  "  Put 
on  your  mutch,  Nanny." 

"  I  dinna  need  to  put  on  a  mutch,"  she  an- 
swered, with  a  faint  flush  of  pride.  "  I  have  a 
bonnet." 

She  took  the  bonnet  from  her  bed,  and  put  it 
on  slowly. 

"  Are  you  sure  there's  naebody  looking.?  "  she 
asked. 

The  doctor  glanced  at  the  minister,  and  Gavin 
rose. 

"  Let  us  pray,"  he  said,  and  the  three  went 
down  on  their  knees. 

It  was  not  the  custom  of  Auld  Licht  ministers 
to  leave  any  house  without  offering  up  a  prayer 
in  it,  and  to  us  it  always  seemed  that  when  Gavin 
prayed,  he  was  at  the  knees  of  God.  The  little 
minister  pouring  himself  out  in  prayer  in  a  hum- 
ble room,  with  awed  people  round  him  who  knew 
much  more  of  the  world  than  he,  his  voice  at 
times  thick  and  again  a  squeal,  and  his  hands 
clasped  not  gracefully,  may  have  been  only  a 
comic  figure,  but  we  were  old-fashioned,  and  he 
seemed  to  make  us  better  men.  If  I  only  knew 
the  way,  I  would  draw  him  as  he  was,  and  not 
fear  to  make  him  too  mean  a  man  for  you  to  read 
about.  He  had  not  been  long  in  Thrums  before 
he  knew  that  we  talked  much  of  his  prayers,  and 
that  doubtless  puffed  him  up  a  little.  Sometimes, 
I  daresay,  he  rose  from  his  knees  feeling  that  he 
had  prayed  well  to-day,  which  is  a  dreadful  charge 
to  bring  against  any  one.  But  it  was  not  always 
so,  nor  was  it  so  now. 

I  am  not  speaking  harshly  of  this  man,  whom 


Tragedy  of  a   Mud  House  139 

I  have  loved  beyond  all  others,  when  I  say  that 
Nannie  came  between  him  and  his  prayer.  Had 
he  been  of  God's  own  image,  unstained,  he 
would  have  forgotten  all  else  in  his  Maker's  pres- 
ence, but  Nanny  was  speaking,  too,  and  her  words 
choked  his.  At  first  she  only  whispered,  but 
soon  what  was  eating  her  heart  burst  out  pain- 
fully, and  she  did  not  know  that  the  minister  had 
stopped. 

They  were  such  moans  as  these  that  brought 
him  back  to  earth  : 

"  I'll  hae  to  gang  .  .  .  I'm  a  base  woman  no 
to  be  mair  thankfu'  to  them  that  is  so  good  to 
me  ...  I  dinna  like  to  prig  wi'  them  to  take  a 
roundabout  road,  and  I'm  sair  fleid  a'  the  Roods 
will  see  me  .  .  .  If  it  could  just  be  said  to  poor 
Sanders  when  he  comes  back  that  I  died  hur- 
riedly, syne  he  would  be  able  to  baud  up  his 
head  .  .  .  Oh,  mither !  .  .  .  I  wish  terrible  they 
had  come  and  ta'en  me  at  nicht  .  .  .  It's  a  dog- 
cart, and  I  was  praying  it  micht  be  a  cart,  so  that 
they  could  cover  me  wi'  straw." 

"  This  is  more  than  I  can  stand,"  the  doctor 
cried. 

Nanny  rose  frightened. 

"  I've  tried  you,  sair,"  she  said,  "  but,  oh,  I'm 
grateful,  and  I'm  ready  now." 

They  all  advanced  towards  the  door  without 
another  word,  and  Nanny  even  tried  to  smile. 
But  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  something  came 
over  her,  and  she  stood  there.  Gavin  took  her 
hand,  and  it  was  cold.  She  looked  from  one  to 
the  other,  her  mouth  opening  and  shutting. 

"  I  canna  help  it,"  she  said. 


1^.0  The   Little   Minister 

"It's  cruel  hard,"  muttered  the  doctor.  "I 
knew  this  woman  when  she  was  a  lassie." 

The  little  minister  stretched  out  his  hands. 

"  Have  pity  on  her,  O  God  !  "  he  prayed,  with 
the  presumptuousness  of  youth. 

Nanny  heard  the  words. 

"  Oh,  God,"  she  cried,  "  you  micht !  " 

God  needs  no  minister  to  tell  Him  what  to  do, 
but  it  was  His  will  that  the  poorhouse  should  not 
have  this  woman.  He  made  use  of  a  strange 
instrument,  no  other  than  the  Egyptian,  who  now 
opened  the  mud  house  door. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

SECOND    COMING    OF    THE    EGYPTIAN    WOMAN 

THE  gypsy  had  been  passing  the  house,  per- 
haps on  her  way  to  Thrums  for  gossip,  and 
it  was  only  curiosity,  born  suddenly  of  Gavin's 
cry,  that  made  her  enter.  On  finding  herself  in 
unexpected  company  she  retained  hold  of  the 
door,  and  to  the  amazed  minister  she  seemed 
for  a  moment  to  have  stepped  into  the  mud 
house  from  his  garden.  Her  eyes  danced,  how- 
ever, as  they  recognised  him,  and  then  he  hard- 
ened. "  This  is  no  place  for  you,"  he  was  saying 
fiercely,  when  Nanny,  too  distraught  to  think, 
fell  crying  at  the  Egyptian's  feet. 

"  They  are  taking  me  to  the  poorhouse,"  she 
sobbed  ;  "  dinna  let  them,  dinna  let  them." 

The  Egyptian's  arms  clasped  her,  and  the 
Egyptian  kissed  a  sallow  cheek  that  had  once 
been  as  fair  as  yours,  madam,  who  may  read  this 
story.  No  one  had  caressed  Nanny  for  many 
years,  but  do  you  think  she  was  too  poor  and  old 
to  care  for  these  young  arms  round  her  neck  ? 
There  are  those  who  say  that  women  cannot  love 
each  other,  but  it  is  not  true.  Woman  is  not 
undeveloped  man,  but  something  better,  and 
Gavin  and  the  doctor  knew  it  as  they  saw 
Nanny  clinging  to  her  protector.  When  the 
gypsy    turned   with    flashing    eyes    to    the    two 

141 


142  The  Little   Minister 

men  she  might  have  been  a  mother  guarding 
her  child. 

"  How  dare  you  !  "  she  cried,  stamping  her 
foot ;  and  they  quaked  like  malefactors. 

"You  don't  see  — "  Gavin  began,  but  her 
indignation  stopped  him. 

"  You  coward  !  "  she  said. 

Even  the  doctor  had  been  impressed,  so  that 
he  now  addressed  the  gypsy  respectfully. 

"  This  is  all  very  well,"  he  said,  "  but  a 
woman's  sympathy  —  " 

"  A  woman  !  —  ah,  if  I  could  be  a  man  for 
only  five  minutes  !  " 

She  clenched  her  little  fists,  and  again  turned 
to  Nanny. 

"  You  poor  dear,"  she  said,  tenderly,  "  I  won't 
let  them  take  you  away." 

She  looked  triumphantly  at  both  minister  and 
doctor,  as  one  who  had  foiled  them  in  their  cruel 
designs. 

"  Go  ! "  she  said,  pointing  grandly  to  the  door. 

"  Is  this  the  Egyptian  of  the  riots,"  the  doctor 
said  in  a  low  voice  to  Gavin,  "  or  is  she  a  queen  ? 
Hoots,  man,  don't  look  so  shamefaced.  We  are 
not  criminals.     Say  something." 

Then  to  the  Egyptian  Gavin  said,  firmly  : 

"  You  mean  well,  but  you  are  doing  this  poor 
woman  a  cruelty  in  holding  out  hopes  to  her  that 
cannot  be  realised.  Sympathy  is  not  meal  and 
bedclothes,  and  these  are  what  she  needs." 

"  And  you  who  live  in  luxury,"  retorted  the 
girl,  "  would  send  her  to  the  poorhouse  for  them. 
I  thought  better  of  you  !  " 

"  Tuts ! "    said    the    doctor,    losing    patience. 


The  Egyptian's  Second  Coming        143 

"  Mr.  Dishart  gives  more  than  any  other  man 
in  Thrums  to  the  poor,  and  he  is  not  to  be 
preached  to  by  a  gypsy.  We  are  waiting  for 
you,  Nanny." 

"Ay,  I'm  coming,"  said  Nanny,  leaving  the 
Egyptian.  "  I'll  hae  to  gang,  lassie.  Dinna 
greet  for  me." 

But  the  Egyptian  said,  "  No,  you  are  not 
going.  It  is  these  men  who  are  going.  Go, 
sirs,  and  leave  us." 

"  And  you  will  provide  for  Nanny  ? "  asked 
the  doctor,  contemptuously. 

"Yes." 

"  And  where  is  the  siller  to  come  from  ?  " 

"  That  is  my  affair,  and  Nanny's.  Begone, 
both  of  you.  She  shall  never  want  again.  See 
how  the  very  mention  of  your  going  brings  back 
life  to  her  face." 

"  I  won't  begone,"  the  doctor  said,  roughly, 
"till  I  see  the  colour  of  your  siller." 

"  Oh,  the  money,"  said  the  Egyptian,  scorn- 
fully. She  put  her  hand  into  her  pocket  confi- 
dently, as  if  used  to  well-filled  purses,  but  could 
only  draw  out  two  silver  pieces. 

"  I  had  forgotten,"  she  said  aloud,  though 
speaking  to  herself. 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  the  cynical  doctor. 
"  Come,  Nanny." 

"  You  presume  to  doubt  me  !  "  the  Egyptian 
said,  blocking  his  way  to  the  door. 

"  How  could  I  presume  to  believe  you  ?  "  he 
answered.  "  You  are  a  beggar  by  profession,  and 
yet  talk  as  if — pooh,  nonsense." 

"  I  would  live  on  terrible  little,"   Nanny  whis- 


144  ^^^   Little   Minister 

pered,  "  and  Sanders  will  be  out  again  in  August 
month." 

"  Seven    shillings    a    week,"     rapped    out    the 

doctor. 

"Is  that  all?"  the  Egyptian  asked.  "She 
shall  have  it." 

"  When  .?  " 

"  At  once.  No,  it  is  not  possible  to-night, 
but  to-morrow  I  will  bring  five  pounds ;  no,  I 
will  send  it;   no,  you  must  come  for  it." 

"And  where,  O  daughter  of  Dives,  do  you 
reside  ?  "  the  doctor  asked. 

No  doubt  the  Egyptian  could  have  foufid  a 
ready  answer  had  her  pity  for  Nanny  been  less 
sincere ;  as  it  was  she  hesitated,  wanting  to  pro- 
pitiate the  doctor,  while  holding  her  secret  fast. 

"  I  only  asked,"  McQueen  said,  eyeing  her 
curiously,  "  because  when  I  make  an  appoint- 
ment I  like  to  know  where  it  is  to  be  held.  But 
I  suppose  you  are  suddenly  to  rise  out  of  the 
ground  as  you  have  done  to-day,  and  did  six 
weeks  ago." 

"  Whether  I  rise  out  of  the  ground  or  not," 
the  gypsy  said,  keeping  her  temper  with  an  effort, 
"  there  will  be  a  five-pound  note  in  my  hand. 
You  will  meet  me  to-morrow  about  this  hour  at 
—  say  the  Kaims  of  Cushie  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  doctor,  after  a  moment's  pause  ; 
"  I  won't.  Even  if  I  went  to  the  Kaims  I  should 
not  find  you  there.  Why  can  you  not  come  to 
me?" 

"  Why  do  you  carry  a  woman's  hair,"  replied 
the  Egyptian,  "  in  that  locket  on  your  chain  ?  " 

Whether  she  was  speaking  of  what  she  knew, 


The  Egyptian's   Second  Coming        145 

or  this  was  only  a  chance  shot,  I  cannot  tell,  but 
the  doctor  stepped  back  from  her  hastily,  and 
could  not  help  looking  down  at  the  locket. 

"Yes,"  said  the  Egyptian,  calmly,  "it  is  still 
shut;  but  why  do  you  sometimes  open  it  at 
nights?" 

"  Lassie,"  the  old  doctor  cried,  "  are  you  a 
witch  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  she  said ;  "  but  I  ask  for  no  an- 
swer to  my  questions.  If  you  have  your  secrets, 
why  may  I  not  have  mine  ?  Now  will  you  meet 
me  at  the  Kaims  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  distrust  you  more  than  ever.  Even 
if  you  came,  it  would  be  to  play  with  me  as  you 
have  done  already.  How  can  a  vagrant  have 
five  pounds  in  her  pocket  when  she  does  not 
have  five  shillings  on  her  back  ? " 

"  You  are  a  cruel,  hard  man,"  the  Egyptian 
said,  beginning  to  lose  hope.  "  But,  see,"  she 
cried,  brightening,  "  look  at  this  ring.  Do  you 
know  its  value  ?  " 

She  held  up  her  finger,  but  the  stone  would 
not  live  in  the  dull  light. 

"  I  see  it  is  gold,"  the  doctor  said,  cautiously, 
and  she  smiled  at  the  ignorance  that  made  him 
look  only  at  the  frame. 

"  Certainly,  it  is  gold,"  said  Gavin,  equally 
stupid. 

"  Mercy  on  us  !  "  Nanny  cried  ;  "  I  believe 
it's  what  they  call  a  diamond." 

"  How  did  you  come  by  it  ?  "  the  doctor  asked, 
suspiciously. 

"  I  thought  we  had  agreed  not  to  ask  each 
other  questions,"   the   Egyptian  answered,  drily. 


146  The  Little   Minister 

"  But,  see,  I  will  give  it  to  you  to  hold  in  hos- 
tage. If  I  am  not  at  the  Kaims  to  get  it  back 
you  can  keep  it." 

The  doctor  took  the  ring  in  his  hand  and 
examined  it  curiously. 

"  There  is  a  quirk  in  this,"  he  said  at  last, 
"  that  I  don't  Hke.  Take  back  your  ring,  lassie. 
Mr.  Dishart,  give  Nanny  your  arm,  and  I'll 
carry  her  box  to  the  machine." 

Now  all  this  time  Gavin  had  been  in  the  dire 
distress  of  a  man  possessed  of  two  minds,  of 
which  one  said,  "  This  is  a  true  woman,"  and  the 
other,  "  Remember  the  seventeenth  of  October." 
They  were  at  war  within  him,  and  he  knew  that 
he  must  take  a  side,  yet  no  sooner  had  he  cast 
one  out  than  he  invited  it  back.  He  did  not 
answer  the  doctor. 

"  Unless,"  McQueen  said,  nettled  by  his 
hesitation,  "  you  trust  this  woman's  word." 

Gavin  tried  honestly  to  weigh  those  two  minds 
against  each  other,  but  could  not  prevent  impulse 
jumping  into  one  of  the  scales. 

"  You  do  trust  me,"  the  Egyptian  said,  with 
wet  eyes  ;  and  now  that  he  looked  on  her  again  — 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  firmly,  "  I  trust  you,"  and  the 
words  that  had  been  so  difficult  to  say  were  the 
right  words.     He  had  no  more  doubt  of  it. 

"  Just  think  a  moment  first,"  the  doctor  warned 
him.  "  I  decline  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
this  matter.  You  will  go  to  the  Kaims  for  the 
siller  ?  " 

"  If  it  is  necessary,"  said  Gavin. 

"  It  is  necessary,"  the  Egyptian  said. 

"  Then  I  will  go." 


The  Egyptian's  Second  Coming        147 

Nanny  took  his  hand  timidly,  and  would  have 
kissed  it  had  he  been  less  than  a  minister. 

"  You  dare  not,  man,"  the  doctor  said,  grufHy, 
"  make  an  appointment  with  this  gypsy.  Think 
of  what  will  be  said  in  Thrums." 

I  honour  Gavin  for  the  way  in  which  he  took 
this  warning.  For  him,  who  was  watched  from 
the  rising  of  his  congregation  to  their  lying  down, 
whose  every  movement  was  expected  to  be  a  text 
to  Thrums,  it  was  no  small  thing  that  he  had 
promised.  This  he  knew,  but  he  only  reddened 
because  the  doctor  had  implied  an  offensive  thing 
in  a  woman's  presence. 

"  You  forget  yourself,  doctor,"  he  said,  sharply. 

"  Send  some  one  in  your  place,"  advised  the 
doctor,  who  liked  the  little  minister. 

"  He  must  come  himself  and  alone,"  said  the 
Egyptian.  "  You  must  both  give  me  your  prom- 
ise not  to  mention  who  is  Nanny's  friend,  and 
she  must  promise,  too." 

"  Well,"  said  the  doctor,  buttoning  up  his  coat, 
"  I  cannot  keep  my  horse  freezing  any  longer. 
Remember,  Mr.  Dishart,  you  take  the  sole 
responsibility  of  this." 

"  I  do,"  said  Gavin,  "  and  with  the  utmost 
confidence." 

"  Give  him  the  ring  then,  lassie,"  said  McQueen. 

She  handed  the  minister  the  ring,  but  he  would 
not  take  it. 

"  I  have  your  word,"  he  said ;  "  that  is  suffi- 
cient." 

Then  the  Egyptian  gave  him  the  first  look  that 
he  could  think  of  afterwards  without  misgivings. 

"  So  be  it,"  said  the  doctor.     "  Get  the  money, 


i_|.8  The  Little  Minister 

and  I  will  say  nothing  about  it,  unless  I  have 
reason  to  think  that  it  has  been  dishonestly  come 
by.  Don't  look  so  frightened  at  me,  Nanny.  I 
hope  for  your  sake  that  her  stocking-foot  is  full 

of  gold." 

"  Surely  it's  worth  risking,"  Nanny  said,  not 
very  brightly,  "when  the  minister's  on  her  side." 

"  Ay,  but  on  whose  side,  Nanny  ?  "  asked  the 
doctor.  "  Lassie,  I  bear  you  no  grudge  ;  will  you 
not  tell  me  who  you  are  ?  " 

"  Only  a  puir  gypsy,  your  honour,"  said  the 
girl,  becoming  mischievous,  now  that  she  had 
gained  her  point ;  "  only  a  wandering  hallen- 
shaker,  and  will  I  tell  you  your  fortune,  my 
pretty  gentleman  ?  " 

"  No,  you  sha'n't,"  replied  the  doctor,  plung- 
ing his  hands  so  hastily  into  his  pockets  that 
Gavin  laughed. 

"  I  don't  need  to  look  at  your  hand,"  said  the 
gypsy,  "  I  can  read  your  fortune  in  your  face." 

She  looked  at  him  fixedly,  so  that  he  fidgeted. 

"  I  see  you,"  said  the  Egyptian  in  a  sepulchral 
voice,  and  speaking  slowly,  "  become  very  frail. 
Your  eyesight  has  almost  gone.  You  are  sitting 
alone  in  a  cauld  room,  cooking  your  ain  dinner 
ower  a  feeble  fire.  The  soot  is  falling  down  the 
lum.  Your  bearish  manners  towards  women  have 
driven  the  servant  lassie  frae  your  house,  and  your 
wife  beats  you." 

"  Ay,  you  spoil  your  prophecy  there,"  the 
doctor  said,  considerably  relieved,  "  for  I'm  not 
married  ;  mv  pipe's  the  only  wife  I  ever  had." 

"You  will  be  married  by  that  time,"  continued 
the  Egyptian,  frowning  at  this  interruption,  "  for 


The  Egyptian's  Second  Coming        149 

I  see  your  wife.  She  is  a  shrew.  She  marries 
you  in  your  dotage.  She  lauchs  at  you  in  com- 
pany.    She  doesna  allow  you  to  smoke." 

"  Away  with  you,  you  jade,"  cried  the  doctor, 
in  a  fury,  and  feeling  nervously  for  his  pipe. 
"  Mr.  Dishart,  you  had  better  stay  and  arrange 
this  matter  as  you  choose,  but  I  want  a  word  with 
you  outside." 

"  And  you're  no  angry  wi'  me,  doctor,  are 
you  ?  "  asked  Nanny,  wistfully.  "  You've  been 
richt  good  to  me,  but  I  canna  thole  the  thocht  o' 
that  place.  And,  oh,  doctor,  you  winna  tell  nae- 
body  that  I  was  so  near  ta'en  to  it  ?  " 

In  the  garden  McQueen  said  to  Gavin  : 

"You  may  be  right,  Mr.  Dishart,  in  this  mat- 
ter, for  there  is  this  in  our  favour,  that  the  woman 
can  gain  nothing  by  tricking  us.  She  did  seem 
to  feel  for  Nanny.  But  who  can  she  be  ?  You 
saw  she  could  put  on  and  off  the  Scotch  tongue 
as  easily  as  if  it  were  a  cap." 

"  She  is  as  much  a  mystery  to  me  as  to  you," 
Gavin  answered,  "  but  she  will  give  me  the 
money,  and  that  is  all  I  ask  of  her," 

"  Ay,  that  remains  to  be  seen.  But  take  care 
of  yourself;  a  man's  second  childhood  begins 
when  a  woman  gets  hold  of  him." 

"  Don't  alarm  yourself  about  me,  doctor.  I 
daresay  she  is  only  one  of  those  gypsies  from  the 
South.  They  are  said  to  be  wealthy,  many  of 
them,  and  even,  when  they  like,  to  have  a  grand 
manner.  The  Thrums  people  had  no  doubt  but 
that  she  was  what  she  seemed  to  be." 

"  Ay,  but  what  does  she  seem  to  be  ?  Even 
that  puzzles  me.     And  then  there  is  this  mystery 


150  The  Little  Minister 

about  her  which  she  admits  herself,  though  per- 
haps only  to  play  with  us." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Gavin,  "  she  is  only  taking 
precautions  against  her  discovery  by  the  police. 
You  must  remember  her  part  in  the  riots." 

"  Yes,  but  we  never  learned  how  she  was  able 
to  play  that  part.  Besides,  there  is  no  fear  in  her, 
or  she  would  not  have  ventured  back  to  Thrums, 
However,  good  luck  attend  you.  But  be  wary. 
You  saw  how  she  kept  her  feet  among  her  shalls 
and  wills  ?  Never  trust  a  Scotch  man  or  woman 
who  does  not  come  to  grief  among  them." 

The  doctor  took  his  seat  in  the  dog-cart. 

"  And,  Mr.  Dishart,"  he  called  out,  "  that  was 
all  nonsense  about  the  locket." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    MINISTER    DANCES    TO    THE    WOMAn's     PIPING 

GAVIN  let  the  doctor's  warnings  fall  in  the 
grass.  In  his  joy  over  Nanny's  deliver- 
ance he  jumped  the  garden  gate,  whose  hinges 
were  of  yarn,  and  cleverly  caught  his  hat  as  it  was 
leaving  his  head  in  protest.  He  then  reentered 
the  mud  house  staidly.  Pleasant  was  the  change. 
Nanny's  home  was  as  a  clock  that  had  been  run 
out,  and  is  set  going  again.  Already  the  old 
woman  was  unpacking  her  box,  to  increase  the 
distance  between  herself  and  the  poorhouse.  But 
Gavin  only  saw  her  in  the  background,  for  the 
Egyptian,  singing  at  her  work,  had  become 
the  heart  of  the  house.  She  had  flung  her  shawl 
over  Nanny's  shoulders,  and  was  at  the  fireplace 
breaking  peats  with  the  leg  of  a  stool.  She  turned 
merrily  to  the  minister  to  ask  him  to  chop  up  his 
staflF  for  firewood,  and  he  would  have  answered 
wittily  but  could  not.  Then,  as  often,  the  beauty 
of  the  Egyptian  surprised  him  into  silence.  I 
could  never  get  used  to  her  face  myself  in  the 
after-days.  It  has  always  held  me  wondering, 
like  my  own  Glen  Quharity  on  a  summer  day, 
when  the  sun  is  lingering  and  the  clouds  are  on 
the  march,  and  the  glen  is  never  the  same  for  two 
minutes,  but  always  so  beautiful  as  to  make  me 


152 


The   Little   Minister 


sad.  Never  will  I  attempt  to  picture  the  Egyp- 
tian as  she  seemed  to  Gavin  while  she  bent  over 
Nanny's  fire,  never  will  I  describe  my  glen.  Yet 
a  hundred  times  have  I  hankered  after  trying  to 
picture  both. 

An  older  minister,  believing  that  Nanny's 
anguish  was  ended,  might  have  gone  on  his 
knees  and  finished  the  interrupted  prayer,  but 
now  Gavin  was  only  doing  this  girl's  bidding. 

"  Nanny  and  I  are  to  have  a  dish  of  tea,  as  soon 
as  we  have  set  things  to  rights,"  she  told  him. 
"  Do  you  think  we  should  invite  the  minister, 
Nanny  ?  " 

"  We  couldna  dare,"  Nanny  answered,  quickly. 
"  You'll  excuse  her,  Mr.  Dishart,  for  the  pre- 
sumption ?  " 

"  Presumption  !  "  said  the  Egyptian,  making  a 
face. 

"  Lassie,"  Nanny  said,  fearful  to  offend  her 
new  friend,  yet  horrified  at  this  affront  to  the 
minister,  "  I  ken  you  mean  weel,  but  Mr.  Dish- 
art'll  think  you're  putting  yoursel'  on  an  equality 
wi'  him."  She  added  in  a  whisper,  "  Dinna  be 
so  free ;  he's  the  Auld  Licht  minister." 

The  gypsy  bowed  with  mock  awe,  but  Gavin 
let  it  pass.  He  had,  indeed,  forgotten  that  he 
was  anybody  in  particular,  and  was  anxious  to 
stay  to  tea. 

"  But  there  is  no  water,"  he  remembered,  "  and 
is  there  any  tea  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  out  for  them  and  for  some  other 
things,"  the  Egyptian  explained.  "  But  no,"  she 
continued,  reflectively,  "  if  I  go  for  the  tea,  you 
must  go  for  the  water." 


To  the  Woman's  Piping  153 

"  Lassie,"  cried  Nanny,  "  mind  wha  you're 
speaking  to.     To  send  a  minister  to  the  well  !  " 

"  I  will  go,"  said  Gavin,  recklessly  lifting  the 
pitcher.     "The  well  is  in  the  wood,  I  think?  " 

"  Gie  me  the  pitcher,  Mr.  Dishart,"  said 
Nanny,  in  distress.  "  What  a  town  there 
would   be  if  you  was   seen  wi't ! " 

"  Then  he  must  remain  here  and  keep  the 
house  till  we  come  back,"  said  the  Egyptian,  and 
thereupon  departed,  with  a  friendly  wave  of  her 
hand  to  the  minister. 

"  She's  an  awfu'  lassie,"  Nanny  said,  apolo- 
getically, "  but  it'll  just  be  the  way  she  has  been 
brought  up." 

"  She  has  been  very  good  to  you,  Nanny." 

"  She  has  ;  leastwise  she  promises  to  be.  Mr. 
Dishart,  she's  awa' ;  what  if  she  doesna  come 
back  ?  " 

Nanny  spoke  nervously,  and  Gavin  drew  a 
long  face. 

"  I  think  she  will,"  he  said,  faintly.  "  I  am 
confident  of  it,"  he  added,  in  the  same  voice. 

"  And  has  she  the  siller  ^  " 

"  I  believe  in  her,"  said  Gavin,  so  doggedly 
that  his  own  words  reassured  him.  "  She  has  an 
excellent  heart." 

"  Ay,"  said  Nanny,  to  whom  the  minister's 
faith  was  more  than  the  Egyptian's  promise, "  and 
that's  hardly  natural  in  a  gaen-aboot  body.  Yet 
a  gypsy  she  maun  be,  for  naebody  would  pretend 
to  be  ane  that  wasna.  Tod,  she  proved  she  was 
an  Egyptian  by  dauring  to  send  you  to  the 
well." 

This  conclusive  argument  brought  her  prospec- 


1^4  The   Little   Minister 

tive  dower  so  close  to  Nanny's  eyes  that  it  hid 
the  poorhouse. 

"  I  suppose  she'll  gie  you  the  money,"  she 
said,  "  and  syne  you'll  gie  me  the  seven  shillings 
a  week  ?  " 

"  That  seems  the  best  plan,"  Gavin  answered. 

"  And  what  will  you  gie  it  me  in  ? "  Nanny 
asked,  with  something  on  her  mind.  "  I  would 
be  terrible  obliged  if  you  gae  it  to  me  in  sax- 
pences." 

"■  Do  the  smaller  coins  go  further  ?  "  Gavin 
asked,  curiously. 

"  Na,  it's  no  that.  But  I've  heard  tell  o'  folk 
giving  away  half-crowns  by  mistake  for  twa  shil- 
ling bits ;  ay,  and  there's  something  dizzying  in 
ha'en  fower  and  twenty  pennies  in  one  piece ;  it 
has  sic  terrible  little  bulk.  Sanders  had  aince  a 
gold  sovereign,  and  he  looked  at  it  so  often  that 
it  seemed  to  grow  smaller  and  smaller  in  his  hand 
till  he  was  feared  it  micht  just  be  a  half  after  all." 

Her  mind  relieved  on  this  matter,  the  old 
woman  set  off  for  the  well.  A  minute  afterwards 
Gavin  went  to  the  door  to  look  for  the  gypsy, 
and,  behold,  Nanny  was  no  farther  than  the  gate. 
Have  you  who  read  ever  been  sick  near  to  death, 
and  then  so  far  recovered  that  you  could  once 
again  stand  at  your  window?  If  so,  you  have 
not  forgotten  how  the  beauty  of  the  world  struck 
you  afresh,  so  that  you  looked  long  and  said 
many  times,  "  How  fair  a  world  it  is  !  "  like  one 
who  had  made  a  discovery.  It  was  such  a  look 
that  Nanny  gave  to  the  hill  and  Caddam  while 
she  stood  at  her  garden  gate. 

Gavin  returned  to  the  fire  and  watched  a  girl 


To  the  Woman's  Piping  155 

in  it  in  an  officer's  cloak  playing  at  hide-and-seek 
with  soldiers.  After  a  time  he  sighed,  then  looked 
round  sharply  to  see  who  had  sighed,  then,  absent- 
mindedly,  lifted  the  empty  kettle  and  placed  it  on 
the  glowing  peats.  He  was  standing  glaring  at 
the  kettle,  his  arms  folded,  when  Nanny  returned 
from  the  well. 

"  I've  been  thinking,"  she  said,  "  o'  something 
that  proves  the  lassie  to  be  just  an  Egyptian.  Ay, 
I  noticed  she  wasna  nane  awed  when  I  said  you 
was  the  Auld  Licht  minister.  Weel,  I'se  uphaud 
that  came  frae  her  living  ower  muckle  in  the 
open  air.  Is  there  no'  a  smell  o'  burning  in 
the  house  ? " 

"  I  have  noticed  it,"  Gavin  answered,  sniffing, 
"  since  you  came  in.  I  was  busy  until  then, 
putting  on  the  kettle.  The  smell  is  becoming 
worse." 

Nanny  had  seen  the  empty  kettle  on  the  fire 
as  he  began  to  speak,  and  so  solved  the  mystery. 
Her  first  thought  was  to  snatch  the  kettle  out  of 
the  blaze,  but  remembering  who  had  put  it  there, 
she  dared  not.  She  sidled  towards  the  hearth 
instead,  and  saying,  craftily,  "  Ay,  here  it  is ;  it's 
a  clout  among  the  peats,"  softly  laid  the  kettle 
on  the  earthen  floor.  It  was  still  red  with  sparks, 
however,  when  the  gypsy  reappeared. 

"  Who  burned  the  kettle?"  she  asked,  ignoring 
Nanny's  signs. 

"  Lassie,"  Nanny  said,  "  it  was  me ; "  but 
Gavin,  flushing,  confessed  his  guilt. 

"  Oh,  you  stupid  !  "  exclaim.ed  the  Egyptian, 
shaking  her  two  ounces  of  tea  (which  then  cost 
six  shillings  the  pound)  in  his  face. 


156  The   Little   Minister 

At  this  Nanny  wrung  her  hands,  crying, 
"That's  waur  than  swearing." 

"  If  men,"  said  the  gypsy,  severely,  "  would 
keep  their  hands  in  their  pockets  all  day,  the 
world's  affairs  would  be  more  easily  managed." 

"  Wheesht !  "  cried  Nanny,  "  if  Mr.  Dishart 
cared  to  set  his  mind  to  it,  he  could  make  the 
kettle  boil  quicker  than  you  or  me.  But  his 
thochts  is  on  higher  things." 

"  No  higher  than  this,"  retorted  the  gypsy, 
holding  her  hand  level  with  her  brow.  "  Con- 
fess, Mr.  Dishart,  that  this  is  the  exact  height  of 
what  YOU  were  thinking  about.  See,  Nanny,  he  is 
blushing  as  if  I  meant  that  he  had  been  thinking 
about  me.  He  cannot  answer,  Nanny  ;  we  have 
found  him  out." 

"  And  kindly  of  him  it  is  no  to  answer,"  said 
Nanny,  who  had  been  examining  the  gypsy's 
various  purchases  ;  "  for  what  could  he  answer, 
except  that  he  would  need  to  be  sure  o'  living  a 
thousand  years  afore  he  could  spare  five  minutes 
on  you  or  me  ?  Of  course,  it  would  be  different 
if  we  sat  under  him." 

"  And  yet,"  said  the  Egyptian,  with  great 
solemnity,  "  he  is  to  drink  tea  at  that  very  table. 
1  hope  you  are  sensible  of  the  honour,  Nanny." 

"  Am  I  no  ?  "  said  Nanny,  whose  education 
had  not  included  sarcasm.  "  I'm  trying  to  keep 
frae  thinking  o't  till  he's  gone,  in  case  I  should 
let  the  teapot  fall." 

"  You  have  nothing  to  thank  me  for,  Nanny," 
said  Gavin,  "  but  much  for  which  to  thank  this 
—  this  —  " 

"  This  haggarty-taggarty  Egyptian,"  suggested 


To  the  Woman's  Piping  157 

the  girl.  Then,  looking  at  Gavin  curiously,  she 
said,  "  But  my  name  is  Babbie." 

"  That's  short  for  Barbara,"  said  Nanny ; 
"  but  Babbie  what  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Babbie  Watt,"  replied  the  gypsy,  as  if 
one  name  were  as  good  as  another. 

"  Weel,  then,  lift  the  lid  off  the  kettle,  Babbie," 
said  Nanny,  "  for  it's  boiling  ower." 

Gavin  looked  at  Nanny  with  admiration  and 
envy,  for  she  had  said  Babbie  as  coolly  as  if  it 
was  the  name  of  a  pepper-box. 

Babbie  tucked  up  her  sleeves  to  wash  Nanny's 
cups  and  saucers,  which  even  in  the  most  prosper- 
ous days  of  the  mud  house  had  only  been  in  use 
once  a  week,  and  Gavin  was  so  eager  to  help  that 
he  bumped  his  head  on  the  plate-rack. 

"  Sit  there,"  said  Babbie,  authoritatively,  point- 
ing, with  a  cup  in  her  hand,  to  a  stool,  "  and 
don't  rise  till  I  give  you  permission." 

To  Nanny's  amazement,  he  did  as  he  was 
bid. 

"  I  got  the  things  in  the  little  shop  you  told 
me  of,"  the  Egyptian  continued,  addressing  the 
mistress  of  the  house,  "  but  the  horrid  man  would 
not  give  them  to  me  until  he  had  seen  my 
money." 

"  Enoch  would  be  suspicious  o'  you,"  Nanny 
explained,  "  you  being  an  Egyptian." 

"  Ah,"  said  Babbie,  with  a  side  glance  at  the 
minister,  "  I  am  only  an  Egyptian.  Is  that  why 
you  dislike  me,  Mr.  Dishart  ?  " 

Gavin  hesitated  foolishly  over  his  answer,  and 
the  Egyptian,  with  a  towel  round  her  waist,  made 
a  pretty  gesture  of  despair. 


1^8  The   Little   Minister 

"  He  neither  likes  you  nor  dislikes  you," 
Nanny  explained;  "  you  forget  he's  a  minister." 

"  That  is  what  I  cannot  endure,"  said  Babbie, 
putting  the  towel  to  her  eyes,  "  to  be  neither 
liked  nor  disliked.  Please  hate  me,  Mr.  Dish- 
art,  if  you  cannot  lo — ove  me." 

Her  face  was  behind  the  towel,  and  Gavin 
could  not  decide  whether  it  was  the  face  or  the 
towel  that  shook  with  agitation.  He  gave  Nanny 
a  look  that  asked,  "Is  she  really  crying?"  and 
Nanny  telegraphed  back,  "  I  question  it." 

"  Come,  come,"  said  the  minister,  gallantly,  "  I 
did  not  say  that  I  disliked  you." 

Even  this  desperate  compliment  had  not  the 
desired  effect,  for  the  gypsy  continued  to  sob 
behind  her  screen. 

"  I  can  honestly  say,"  went  on  Gavin,  as  sol- 
emnly as  if  making  a  statement  in  a  court  of 
justice,  "  that  I   like  you." 

Then  the  Egyptian  let  drop  her  towel,  and 
replied,  with  equal  solemnity  : 

"  Oh,  tank  oo  !  Nanny,  the  minister  says  me 
is  a  dood  'ittle  dirl." 

"He  didna  gang  that  length,"  said  Nanny, 
sharply,  to  cover  Gavin's  confusion.  "  Set  the 
things,  Babbie,  and  I'll  make  the  tea." 

The  Egyptian  obeyed  demurely,  pretending  to 
wipe  her  eyes  every  time  Gavin  looked  at  her. 
He  frowned  at  this,  and  then  she  affected  to  be 
too  overcome  to  go  on  with  her  work. 

"  Tell  me,  Nanny,"  she  asked,  presently,  "  what 
sort  of  man  this  Enoch  is,  from  whom  I  bought 
the  things  ?  " 

"He   is   not  very  regular,    I    fear,"   answered 


To  the  Woman's  Piping  159 

Gavin,  who  felt  that  he  had  sat  silent  and  self- 
conscious  on  his  stool  too  long. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  he  drinks  ? "  asked 
Babbie. 

"  No,  I  mean  regular  in  his  attendance." 

The  Egyptian's  face  showed  no  enlightenment. 

"  His  attendance  at  church,"  Gavin  explained. 

"  He's  far  frae  it,"  said  Nanny,  "  and  as  a 
body  kens,  Joe  Cruickshanks,  the  atheist,  has 
the  wite  o'  that.  The  scoundrel  telled  Enoch 
that  the  great  ministers  in  Edinbury  and  London 
believed  in  no  hell  except  sic  as  your  ain  con- 
science made  for  you,  and  ever  since  syne  Enoch 
has  been  careless  about  the  future  state." 

"  Ah,"  said  Babbie,  waving  the  Church  aside, 
"  what  I  want  to  know  is  whether  he  is  a  single 
man." 

"  He  is  not,"  Gavin  replied,  "  but  why  do  you 
want  to  know  that  ?  " 

"  Because  single  men  are  such  gossips.  I  am 
sorry  he  is  not  single,  as  I  want  him  to  repeat  to 
everybody  what  I  told  him." 

"  Trust  him  to  tell  Susy,"  said  Nanny,  "  and 
Susy  to  tell  the  town." 

"  His  wife  is  a  gossip  ?  " 

"  Ay,  she's  aye  tonguing,  especially  about  her 
teeth.  They're  folk  wi'  siller,  and  she  has  a  set 
o'  false  teeth.  It's  fair  scumfishing  to  hear  her 
blawing  about  thae  teeth,  she's  so  fleid  we  dinna 
ken  that  they're  false." 

Nanny  had  spoken  jealously,  but  suddenly  she 
trembled  with  apprehension. 

"  Babbie,"  she  cried,  "  you  didna  speak  about 
the  poorhouse  to  Enoch  ?  " 


i6o  The   Little   Minister 

The  Egyptian  shook  her  head,  though  of  the 
poorhouse  she  had  been  forced  to  speak,  for 
Enoch,  having  seen  the  doctor  going  home 
alone,  insisted  on  knowing  why. 

"  But  I  knew,"  the  gypsy  said,  "  that  the 
Thrums  people  would  be  very  unhappy  until 
they  discovered  where  you  get  the  money  I  am 
to  give  you,  and  as  that  is  a  secret,  I  hinted  to 
Enoch  that  your  benefactor  is  Mr.  Dishart." 

"  You  should  not  have  said  that,"  interposed 
Gavin.     "  I  cannot  foster  such  a  deception." 

"  They  will  foster  it  without  your  help,"  the 
Egyptian  said.  "  Besides,  if  you  choose,  you  can 
say  you  get  the  money  from  a  friend." 

"  Ay,  you  can  say  that,"  Nanny  entreated 
with  such  eagerness  that  Babbie  remarked,  a 
litde  bitterly  : 

"  There  is  no  fear  of  Nanny's  telling  any  one 
that  the  friend  is  a  gypsy  girl." 

"  Na,  na,"  agreed  Nanny,  again  losing  Babbie's 
sarcasm.  "  I  winna  let  on.  It's  so  queer  to  be 
befriended  by  an  Egyptian." 

"  It  is  scarcely  respectable,"  Babbie  said. 

"  It's  no,"  answered  simple  Nanny. 

I  suppose  Nanny's  unintentional  cruelty  did 
hurt  Babbie  as  much  as  Gavin  thought.  She 
winced,  and  her  face  had  two  expressions,  the  one 
cynical,  the  other  pained.  Her  mouth  curled  as 
if  to  tell  the  minister  that  gratitude  was  nothing 
to  her,  but  her  eyes  had  to  struggle  to  keep  back 
a  tear.  Gavin  was  touched,  and  she  saw  it,  and 
for  a  moment  they  were  two  people  who  under- 
stood each  other. 

"  I,  at  least,"  Gavin  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "will 


To  the  Woman's   Piping  i6i 

know  who  is  the  benefactress,  and  think  none  the 
worse  of  her  because  she  is  a  gypsy." 

At  this  Babbie  smiled  gratefully  to  him,  and 
then  both  laughed,  for  they  had  heard  Nanny 
remarking  to  the  kettle,  "  But  I  wouldna  hae 
been  nane  angry  if  she  had  telled  Enoch  that  the 
minister  was  to  take  his  tea  here.  Susy'll  no 
believe't  though  I  tell  her,  as  tell  her  I  will." 

To  Nanny  the  table  now  presented  a  rich 
appearance,  for  besides  the  teapot  there  were 
butter  and  loaf-bread  and  cheesies  :  a  biscuit  of 
which  only  Thrums  knows  the  secret. 

"  Draw  in  your  chair,  Mr.  Dishart,"  she  said, 
in  suppressed  excitement. 

"Yes,"  said  Babbie,  "you  take  this  chair,  Mr. 
Dishart,  and  Nanny  will  have  that  one,  and  I  can 
sit  humbly  on  the  stool." 

But  Nanny  held  up  her  hands  in  horror. 

"  Keep  us  a'  !  "  she  exclaimed ;  "  the  lassie 
thinks  her  and  me  is  to  sit  down  wi'  the  min- 
ister !  We're  no  to  gang  that  length.  Babbie ; 
we're  just  to  stand  and  serve  him,  and  syne  we'll 
sit  down  when  he  has  risen." 

"  Delightful!"  said  Babbie,  clapping  her  hands. 
"  Nannie,  you  kneel  on  that  side  of  him,  and  I 
will  kneel  on  this.  You  will  hold  the  butter  and 
I  the  biscuits." 

But  Gavin,  as  this  girl  was  always  forgetting, 
was  a  lord  of  creation. 

"Sit  down  both  of  you  at  once!"  he  thun- 
dered.    "  I  command  you." 

Then  the  two  women  fell  into  their  seats, 
—  Nanny  in  terror.  Babbie  affecting  it. 


CHAPTER   XV 

THE    MINISTER    BEWITCHED SECOND    SERMON 

AGAINST     WOMEN 

TO  Nanny  it  was  a  dizzying  experience  to 
sit  at  the  head  of  her  own  table,  and,  with 
assumed  calmness,  invite  the  minister  not  to  spare 
the  loaf-bread.  Babbie's  prattle,  and  even  Gavin's 
answers,  were  but  an  indistinct  noise  to  her,  to  be 
as  little  regarded,  in  the  excitement  of  watching 
whether  Mr.  Dishart  noticed  that  there  was  a 
knife  for  the  butter,  as  the  music  of  the  river  by 
a  man  who  is  catching  trout.  Every  time  Gavin's 
cup  went  to  his  lips  Nanny  calculated  (correctly) 
how  much  he  had  drunk,  and  yet,  when  the  right 
moment  arrived,  she  asked  in  the  English  voice 
that  is  fashionable  at  ceremonies,  "  if  his  cup  was 
toom." 

Perhaps  it  was  well  that  Nanny  had  these 
matters  to  engross  her,  for  though  Gavin  spoke 
freely,  he  was  saying  nothing  of  lasting  value, 
and  some  of  his  remarks  to  the  Egyptian,  if  pre- 
served for  the  calmer  contemplation  of  the  mor- 
row, might  have  seemed  frivolous  to  himself 
Usually  his  observations  were  scrambled  for,  like 
ha'pence  at  a  wedding,  but  to-day  they  were  only 
for  one  person.  Infected  by  the  Egyptian's  high 
spirits,  Gavin  had  laid  aside  the  minister  with  his 

162 


Second  Sermon  Against  Women        163 

hat,  and  what  was  left  was  only  a  young  man. 
He  who  had  stamped  his  feet  at  thought  of  a 
soldier's  cloak  now  wanted  to  be  reminded  of  it. 
The  little  minister,  who  used  to  address  himself 
in  terms  of  scorn  every  time  he  wasted  an  hour, 
was  at  present  dallying  with  a  teaspoon.  He 
even  laughed  boisterously,  flinging  back  his  head, 
and  little  knew  that  behind  Nanny's  smiling  face 
was  a  terrible  dread,  because  his  chair  had  once 
given  way  before. 

Even  though  our  thoughts  are  not  with  our 
company,  the  mention  of  our  name  is  a  bell  to 
which  we  usually  answer.  Hearing  hers,  Nanny 
started. 

"  You  can  tell  me,  Nanny,"  the  Egyptian  had 
said,  with  an  arch  look  at  the  minister.  "  Oh, 
Nanny,  for  shame !  How  can  you  expect  to 
follow  our  conversation  when  you  only  listen  to 
Mr.  Dishart  ?  " 

"  She  is  saying,  Nanny,"  Gavin  broke  in, 
almost  gaily  for  a  minister,  "  that  she  saw  me 
recently  wearing  a  cloak.  You  know  I  have  no 
such  thing." 

"  Na,"  Nanny  answered,  artlessly,  "  you  have 
just  the  thin  brown  coat  wi'  the  braid  round  it, 
forby  the  ane  you  have  on  the  now." 

"  You  see,"  Gavin  said  to  Babbie,  "  I  could 
not  have  a  new  neckcloth,  not  to  speak  of  a 
cloak,  without  everybody  in  Thrums  knowing 
about  it.  I  dare  say  Nanny  knows  all  about  the 
braid,  and  even  what  it  cost." 

"  Three  bawbees  the  yard  at  Kyowowy's  shop," 
replied  Nanny,  promptly,  "  and  your  mother 
sewed  it  on.     Sam'l  Fairweather  has  the  marrows 


164  The  Little   Minister 

o't  on  his  top-coat.  No  that  it  has  the  same 
look  on  him." 

"  Nevertheless,"  Babbie  persisted,  "  I  am  sure 
the  minister  has  a  cloak;  but  perhaps  he  is 
ashamed  of  it.  No  doubt  it  is  hidden  away  in 
the  garret." 

"  Na,  we  would  hae  kent  o't  if  it  was  there," 
said  Nanny. 

"  But  it  may  be  in  a  chest,  and  the  chest  may 
be  locked,"  the  Egyptian  suggested. 

"  Ay,  but  the  kist  in  the  garret  isna  locked," 
Nanny  answered. 

"  How  do  you  get  to  know  all  these  things, 
Nanny  ?  "  asked  Gavin,  sighing. 

"  Your  congregation  tells  me.  Naebody  would 
lay  by  news  about  a  minister." 

"  But  how  do  they  know  ?  " 

"  I  dinna  ken.  They  just  find  out,  because 
they're  so  fond  o'  you." 

"  I  hope  they  will  never  become  so  fond  of 
me  as  that,"  said  Babbie.  "  Still,  Nanny,  the 
minister's  cloak  is  hidden  somewhere." 

"  Losh,  what  would  make  him  hod  it  ?  "  de- 
manded the  old  woman.  "  Folk  that  has  cloaks 
doesna  bury  them  in  boxes." 

At  the  word  "  bury  "  Gavin's  hand  fell  on  the 
table,  and  he  returned  to  Nanny  apprehensively. 

"  That  would  depend  on  how  the  cloak  was 
got,"  said  the  cruel  Egyptian.  "If  it  was  not 
his  own  —  " 

"  Lassie,"  cried  Nanny,  "  behave  yoursel'." 

"  Or  if  he  found  it  in  his  possession  against  his 
will  ?  "  suggested  Gavin,  slyly.  "  He  might  have 
got  it  from  some  one  who  picked  it  up  cheap." 


Second  Sermon   Against  Women        165 

"  From  his  wife,  for  instance,"  said  Babbie, 
whereupon  Gavin  suddenly  became  interested  in 
the  floor. 

"  Ay,  ay,  the  minister  was  hitting  at  you  there, 
Babbie,"  Nanny  explained,  "  for  the  way  you 
made  off  wi'  the  captain's  cloak.  The  Thrums 
folk  wondered  less  at  your  taking  it  than  at  your 
no  keeping  it.      It's  said  to  be  michty  grand." 

"It  was  rather  like  the  one  the  minister's  wife 
gave  him,"  said  Babbie. 

"  The  minister  has  neither  a  wife  nor  a  cloak," 
retorted  Nanny. 

"  He  isn't  married  ^  "  asked  Babbie,  the  picture 
of  incredulity. 

Nanny  gathered  from  the  minister's  face  that 
he  deputed  to  her  the  task  of  enlightening  this 
ignorant  girl,  so  she  replied,  with  emphasis,  "  Na, 
they  hinna  got  him  yet,  and  I'm  cheated  if  it 
doesna  tak  them  all  their  time." 

Thus  do  the  best  of  women  sell  their  sex  for 
nothing. 

"  I  did  wonder,"  said  the  Egyptian,  gravely, 
"  at  any  mere  woman's  daring  to  marry  such  a 
minister." 

"  Ay,"  rephed  Nanny,  spiritedly,  "  but  there's 
dauring  limmers  wherever  there's  a  single  man." 

"  So  I  have  often  suspected,"  said  Babbie,  duly 
shocked.  "  But,  Nanny,  I  was  told  the  minister 
had  a  wife,  by  one  who  said  he  saw  her." 

"  He  lied,  then,"  answered  Nanny,  turning  to 
Gavin  for  further  instructions. 

"  But,  see,  the  minister  does  not  deny  the 
horrid  charge  himself." 

"  No,  and  for  the  reason   he  didna  deny  the 


i66  The   Little   Minister 

cloak:  because  it's  no  worth  his  while.  I'll  tell 
you  wha  your  friend  had  seen.  It  would  be 
somebody  that  would  like  to  be  Mrs.  Dishart. 
There's  a  hantle  o'  that  kind.  Ay,  lassie,  but 
wishing  winna  land  a  woman  in  a  manse." 

"  It  was  one  of  the  soldiers,"  Babbie  said, 
"  who  told  me  about  her.  He  said  Mr.  Dishart 
introduced  her  to  him." 

"  Sojers  !  "  cried  Nanny.  "  I  could  never  thole 
the  name  o'  them.  Sanders  in  his  young  days 
hankered  after  joining  them,  and  so  he  would,  if 
it  hadna  been  for  the  fechting.  Ay,  and  now 
they've  ta'en  him  awa  to  the  gaol,  and  sworn 
lies  about  him.  Dinna  put  any  faith  in  sojers, 
assie. 

"  I  was  told,"  Babbie  went  on,  "  that  the 
minister's  wife  was  rather  like  me." 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  "  ejaculated  Nanny,  so  fer- 
vently that  all  three  suddenly  sat  back  from  the 
table. 

"  I'm  no  meaning,"  Nanny  continued,  hur- 
riedly, fearing  to  offend  her  benefactress,  "  but 
what  you're  the  bonniest  tid  I  ever  saw  out  o'  an 
almanack.  But  you  would  ken  Mr.  Dishart's 
contempt  for  bonny  faces  if  you  had  heard  his 
sermon  against  them.  I  didna  hear  it  mysel',  for 
I'm  no  Auld  Licht,  but  it  did  the  work  o'  the 
town  for  an  aucht  days." 

If  Nanny  had  not  taken  her  eyes  ofi^  Gavin  for 
the  moment  she  would  have  known  that  he  was 
now  anxious  to  change  the  topic.  Babbie  saw  it, 
and  became  suspicious. 

"  When  did  he  preach  against  the  wiles  of 
women,  Nanny  ?  " 


Second  Sermon  Against  Women         167 

"It  was  long  ago,"  said  Gavin,  hastily. 

"  No  so  very  lang  syne,"  corrected  Nanny. 
"It  was  the  Sabbath  after  the  sojers  was  in 
Thrums ;  the  day  you  changed  your  text  so 
hurriedly.  Some  thocht  you  wasna  weel,  but 
Lang  Tammas  —  " 

"  Thomas  Whamond  is  too  officious,"  Gavin 
said,  with  dignity.  "  I  forbid  you,  Nanny,  to 
repeat  his  story." 

"  But  what  made  you  change  your  text  ? " 
asked   Babbie. 

"You  see  he  winna  tell,"  Nanny  said,  wist- 
fully. "  Ay,  I  dinna  deny  but  what  I  would  like 
richt  to  ken.  But  the  session's  as  puzzled  as 
yoursel'.  Babbie." 

"  Perhaps  more  puzzled,"  answered  the  Egyp- 
tian, with  a  smile  that  challenged  Gavin's  frowns 
to  combat  and  overthrow  them.  "  What  sur- 
prises me,  Mr.  Dishart,  is  that  such  a  great  man 
can  stoop  to  see  whether  women  are  pretty  or 
not.  It  was  very  good  of  you  to  remember  me 
to-day.  I  suppose  you  recognised  me  by  my 
frock  ?  " 

"  By  your  face,"  he  replied,  boldly  ;  "  by  your 
eyes." 

"  Nanny,"  exclaimed  the  Egyptian,  "  did  you 
hear  what  the  minister  said  ?  " 

"  Woe  is  me,"  answered  Nanny,  "  I  missed  it." 

"He  says  he  would  know  me  anywhere  by  my 
eyes." 

"  So  would  I  mysel',"  said  Nanny. 

"Then  what  colour  are  they,  Mr.  Dishart?" 
demanded  Babbie.  "  Don't  speak,  Nanny,  for  I 
want  to  expose  him." 


i68  The   Little   Minister 

She  closed  her  eyes  tightly.  Gavin  was  in  a 
quandary.  I  suppose  he  had  looked  at  her  eyes 
too  long  to  know  much  about  them. 

"  Blue,"  he  guessed  at  last. 

"  Na,  they're  black,"  said  Nanny,  who  had 
doubtless  known  this  for  an  hour.  I  am  always 
marvelling  over  the  cleverness  of  women,  as  every 
one  must  see  who  reads  this  story. 

"  No  but  what  they  micht  be  blue  in  some 
lichts,"  Nanny  added,  out  of  respect  to  the 
minister. 

"  Oh,  don't  defend  him,  Nanny,"  said  Babbie, 
looking  reproachfully  at  Gavin.  "  I  don't  see 
that  any  minister  has  a  right  to  denounce  women, 
when  he  is  so  ignorant  of  his  subject.  I  will  say 
it,  Nanny,  and  you  need  not  kick  me  beneath 
the  table." 

Was  not  all  this  intoxicating  to  the  little  min- 
ister, who  had  never  till  now  met  a  girl  on  equal 
terms  ?  At  twenty-one  a  man  is  a  musical  instru- 
ment given  to  the  other  sex,  but  it  is  not  as  in- 
struments learned  at  school,  for  when  She  sits 
down  to  it,  she  cannot  tell  what  tune  she  is  about 
to  play.  That  is  because  she  has  no  notion  of 
what  the  instrument  is  capable.  Babbie's  kind- 
heartedness,  her  gaiety,  her  coquetry,  her  mo- 
ments of  sadness,  had  been  a  witch's  fingers, 
and  Gavin  was  still  trembling  under  their  touch. 
Even  in  being  taken  to  task  by  her  there  was  a 
charm,  for  every  pout  of  her  mouth,  every  shake 
of  her  head,  said,  "  You  like  me,  and  therefore 
you  have  given  me  the  right  to  tease  you."  Men 
sign  these  agreements  without  reading  them.  But, 
indeed,  man  is  a  stupid  animal  at  the  best,  and 


Second  Sermon  Against  Women        169 

thinks  all  his  life  that  he  did  not  propose  until  he 
blurted  out,  "  I  love  you." 

It  was  later  than  it  should  have  been  when  the 
minister  left  the  mud  house,  and  even  then  he 
only  put  on  his  hat  because  Babbie  said  that  she 
must  go. 

"  But  not  your  way,"  she  added.  "  I  go  into 
the  wood  and  vanish.  You  know,  Nanny,  I  live 
up  a  tree." 

"  Dinna  say  that,"  said  Nanny,  anxiously,  "  or 
I'll  be  field  about  the  siller." 

"  Don't  fear  about  it.  Mr.  Dishart  will  get 
some  of  it  to-morrow  at  the  Kaims.  I  would 
bring  it  here,  but  I  cannot  come  so  far  to- 
morrow." 

"Then  I'll  hae  peace  to  the  end  o'  my  days," 
said  the  old  woman,  "  and.  Babbie,  I  wish  the 
same  to  you  wi'  all  my  heart." 

"Ah,"  Babbie  replied,  mournfully,  "I  have 
read  my  fortune,  Nanny,  and  there  is  not  much 
happiness  in  it." 

"  I  hope  that  is  not  true,"  Gavin  said,  simply. 

They  were  standing  at  the  door,  and  she  was 
looking  towards  the  hill,  perhaps  without  seeing  it. 
All  at  once  it  came  to  Gavin  that  this  fragile  girl 
might  have  a  history  far  sadder  and  more  turbu- 
lent than  his. 

"  Do  you  really  care  ? "  she  asked,  without 
looking  at  him. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  stoutly,  "  I  care." 

"  Because  you  do  not  know  me,"  she  said. 

"  Because  I  do  know  you,"  he  answered. 

Now  she  did  look  at  him. 

"  I  believe,"  she  said,  making  a  discovery,  "  that 


lyo  The   Little   Minister 

you  misunderstand  me  less  than  those  who  have 
known  me  longer." 

This  was  a  perilous  confidence,  for  it  at  once 
made  Gavin  say  "  Babbie." 

"  Ah,"  she  answered,  frankly,  "  I  am  glad  to 
hear  that.  I  thought  you  did  not  really  like  me, 
because  vou  never  called  me  by  my  name." 

Gavin  drew  a  great  breath. 

"  That  was  not  the  reason,"  he  said. 

The  reason  was  now  unmistakable. 

"  I  was  wrong,"  said  the  Egyptian,  a  little 
alarmed ;  "  you  do  not  understand  me  at  all." 

She  returned  to  Nanny,  and  Gavin  set  off, 
holding  his  head  high,  his  brain  in  a  whirl.  Five 
minutes  afterwards,  when  Nanny  was  at  the  fire, 
the  diamond  ring  on  her  little  finger,  he  came 
back,  looking  like  one  who  had  just  seen  sudden 
death. 

"  I  had  forgotten,"  he  said,  with  a  fierceness 
aimed  at  himself,  "  that  to-morrow  is  the 
Sabbath." 

"  Need  that  make  any  difference  ?  "  asked  the 
gypsy. 

"  At  this  hour  on  Monday,"  said  Gavin, 
hoarsely,  "  I   will  be  at  the   Kaims." 

He  went  away  without  another  word,  and 
Babbie  watched  him  from  the  window.  Nanny 
had  not  looked  up  from  the  ring. 

"  What  a  pity  he  is  a  minister  !  "  the  girl  said, 
reflectively.     "  Nanny,  you  are  not  listening," 

The  old  woman  was  making  the  ring  flash  by 
the  light  of  the  fire. 

"  Nanny,  do  you  hear  me  ?  Did  you  see  Mr. 
Dishart  come  back  ?  " 


Second   Sermon  Against  Women        171 

"  I  heard  the  door  open,"  Nanny  answered, 
without  taking  her  greedy  eyes  off  the  ring. 
"  Was  it  him  ?  Whaur  did  you  get  this, 
lassie  ?  " 

"  Give  it  me  back,  Nanny,  I  am  going  now." 

But  Nanny  did  not  give  it  back ;  she  put  her 
other  hand  over  it  to  guard  it,  and  there  she 
crouched,  warming  herself,  not  at  the  fire,  but  at 
the  ring. 

"  Give  it  me,  Nanny." 

"  It  winna  come  off  my  finger."  She  gloated 
over  it,  nursed  it,  kissed  it. 

"  I  must  have  it,  Nanny." 

The  Egyptian  put  her  hand  lightly  on  the  old 
woman's  shoulder,  and  Nanny  jumped  up,  press- 
ing the  ring  to  her  bosom.  Her  face  had  become 
cunning  and  ugly ;  she  retreated  into  a  corner. 

"  Nanny,  give  me  back  my  ring  or  I  will  take 
It  from  you." 

The  cruel  light  of  the  diamond  was  in  Nanny's 
eyes  for  a  moment,  and  then,  shuddering,  she  said, 
"  Tak  your  ring  awa,  tak  it  out  o'  my  sicht." 

In  the  meantime  Gavin  was  trudging  home 
gloomily  composing  his  second  sermon  against 
women.  I  have  already  given  the  entry  in  my 
own  diary  for  that  day.  This  is  his  :  "  Notes  on 
Jonah.  Exchanged  vol.  xHii.,  '  European  Maga- 
zine,' for  Owen's  'Justification'  [per  flying  sta- 
tioner). Began  Second  Samuel.  Visited  Nanny 
Webster."     There  is  no  mention  of  the  Egyptian. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

CONTINUED     MISBEHAVIOUR    OF    THE    EGYPTIAN 
WOMAN 

BY  the  following  Monday  it  was  known  at 
many  looms  that  something  sat  heavily  on 
the  Auld  Licht  minister's  mind.  On  the  pre- 
vious day  he  had  preached  his  second  sermon  of 
warning  to  susceptible  young  men,  and  his  first 
mention  of  the  word  "  woman  "  had  blown  even 
the  sleepy  heads  upright.  Now  he  had  salt  fish 
for  breakfast,  and  on  clearing  the  table  Jean 
noticed  that  his  knife  and  fork  were  uncrossed. 
He  was  observed  walking  into  a  gooseberry-bush 
by  Susy  Linn,  who  possessed  the  pioneer  spring- 
bed  of  Thrums,  and  always  knew  when  her  man 
jumped  into  it  by  suddenly  finding  herself  shot 
to  the  ceiling.  Lunan,  the  tinsmith,  and  two 
women,  who  had  the  luck  to  be  in  the  street  at 
the  time,  saw  him  stopping  at  Doctor  McQueen's 
door,  as  if  about  to  knock,  and  then  turning 
smartly  away.  His  hat  blew  off  in  the  school 
wynd,  where  a  wind  wanders  ever,  looking  for 
hats,  and  he  chased  it  so  passionately  that 
Lang  Tammas  went  into  Allardyce's  smiddy  to 
say  : 

"  I  dinna  like  it.     Of  course  he  couldna  afford 
172 


Continued   Misbehaviour  173 

to  lose  his  hat,  but  he  should  hae  run  after  it 
mair  reverently." 

Gavin,  indeed,  was  troubled.  He  had  avoided 
speaking  of  the  Egyptian  to  his  mother.  He 
had  gone  to  McQiieen's  house  to  ask  the  doctor 
to  accompany  him  to  the  Kaims,  but,  with  the 
knocker  in  his  hand,  he  changed  his  mind,  and 
now  he  was  at  the  place  of  meeting,  alone.  It 
was  a  day  of  thaw,  nothing  to  be  heard  from  a 
distance  but  the  swish  of  curling-stones  through 
water  on  Rashie-bog,  where  the  match  for  the 
eldership  was  going  on.  Around  him,  Gavin 
saw  only  dejected  firs,  with  drops  of  water  falling 
listlessly  from  them,  clods  of  snow,  and  grass  that 
rustled  as  if  animals  were  crawling  through  it. 
All  the  roads  were  slack. 

I  suppose  no  young  man  to  whom  society  has 
not  become  a  cheap  thing  can  be  in  Gavin's  posi- 
tion, awaiting  the  coming  of  an  attractive  girl, 
without  giving  thought  to  what  he  should  say  to 
her.  When  in  the  pulpit,  or  visiting  the  sick, 
words  came  in  a  rush  to  the  little  minister,  but 
he  had  to  set  his  teeth  to  determine  what  to  say 
to  the  Egyptian. 

This  was  because  he  had  not  yet  decided  which 
of  two  women  she  was.  Hardly  had  he  started 
on  one  line  of  thought,  when  she  crossed  his 
vision  in  a  new  light,  and  drew  him  after  her. 

Her  "Need  that  make  any  difference?"  sang 
in  his  ear  like  another  divit,  cast  this  time  at 
religion  itself,  and  now  he  spoke  aloud,  pointing 
his  finger  at  a  fir :  "I  said  at  the  mud  house  that 
I  believed  you  because  I  knew  you.  To  my 
shame   be   It  said   that   I    spoke  falsely.      How 


174  The  Little  Minister 

dared  you  bewitch  me?  In  your  presence  I 
flung  away  the  precious  hours  in  frivolity ;  I  even 
forgot  the  Sabbath.  For  this  I  have  myself  to 
blame.  I  am  an  unworthy  preacher  of  the 
Word.  I  sinned  far  more  than  you,  who  have 
been  brought  up  godlessly  from  your  cradle. 
Nevertheless,  whoever  you  are,  I  call  upon  you, 
before  we  part,  never  to  meet  again,  to  repent  of 
your  —  " 

And  then  it  was  no  mocker  of  the  Sabbath 
he  was  addressing,  but  a  woman  with  a  child's 
face,  and  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes.  "  Do 
you  care  ? "  she  was  saying,  and  again  he  an- 
swered, "Yes,  I  care."  This  girl's  name  was 
not  Woman,  but  Babbie. 

Now  Gavin  made  a  heroic  attempt  to  look 
upon  both  these  women  at  once.  "  Yes,  I  be- 
lieve in  you,"  he  said  to  them,  "  but  henceforth 
you  must  send  your  money  to  Nanny  by  another 
messenger.  You  are  a  gypsy  and  I  am  a  min- 
ister ;  and  that  must  part  us.  I  refuse  to  see 
you  again.  I  am  not  angry  with  you,  but  as  a 
minister  —  " 

It  was  not  the  disappearance  of  one  of  the 
women  that  clipped  this  argument  short ;  it  was 
Babbie  singing : 

'*  It  fell  on  a  day,  on  a  bonny  summer  day. 
When  the  corn  grew  green  and  yellow. 
That  there  fell  out  a  great  dispute 
Between  Argyle  and  Airly. 

"  The  Duke  of  Montrose  has  written  to  Argyle 
To  come  in  the  morning  early. 
An'  lead  in  his  men  by  the  back  o'  Dunkeld 
To  plunder  the  bonny  house  o'  Airly." 


Continued   Misbehaviour  175 

"  Where  are  you  ?  "  cried  Gavin,  in  bewilder- 
ment. 

"  I  am  watching  you  from  my  window  so  high," 
answered  the  Egyptian ;  and  then  the  minister, 
looking  up,  saw  her  peering  at  him  from  a  fir. 

"How  did  you  get  up  there?"  he  asked,  in 
amazement. 

"  On  my  broomstick,"  Babbie  replied,  and  sang 
on  : 

"  The  lady  looked  o'er  her  window  sae  high. 
And  oh  !   but  she  looked  weary. 
And  there  she  espied  the  great  Argyle 

Come  to  plunder  the  bonny  house  0'  Airly." 

"What  are  you  doing  there?"  Gavin  said, 
wrathfully. 

"  This  is  my  home,"  she  answered.  "  I  told 
you  I  lived  in  a  tree." 

"  Come  down  at  once,"  ordered  Gavin.  To 
which  the  singer  responded : 

"  'Come  down,  come  down.  Lady  Margaret,'  he  says; 
'  Come  down  and  kiss  me  fairly, 
Or  before  the  morning  clear  daylight 

I'll  no  leave  a  standing  stane  in  Airly.'  " 

"  If  you  do  not  come  down  this  instant,"  Gavin 
said,  in  a  rage,  "  and  give  me  what  I  was  so  fool- 
ish as  to  come  for,  I  —  " 

The  Egyptian  broke  in  : 

"  '  I  wouldna  kiss  thee,  great  Argyle, 
I  wouldna  kiss  thee  fairly; 
I  wouldna  kiss  thee,  great  Argyle, 

Gin  you  shouldna  leave  a  standing  stane  in  Airly.'  " 


iy6  The  Little  Minister 

"  You  have  deceived  Nanny,"  Gavin  cried, 
hotly,  "  and  you  have  brought  me  here  to  deride 
me.     I  will  have  no  more  to  do  with  you." 

He  walked  away  quickly,  but  she  called  after 
him,  "  1  am  coming  down.  I  have  the  money," 
and  next  moment  a  snowball  hit  his  hat. 

"  That  is  for  being  cross,"  she  explained,  ap- 
pearing so  unexpectedly  at  his  elbow  that  he  was 
taken  aback.  "  I  had  to  come  close  up  to  you 
before  I  flung  it,  or  it  would  have  fallen  over  my 
shoulder.  Why  are  you  so  nasty  to-day  ?  and, 
oh,  do  you  know  you  were  speaking  to  yourself  ?  " 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  said  Gavin,  severely. 
"  I  was  speaking  to  you." 

"You  didn't  see  me  till  I  began  to  sing,  did 
you  r 

"  Nevertheless  I  was  speaking  to  you,  or  rather 
I  was  saying  to  myself  what  —  " 

"  What  you  had  decided  to  say  to  me  ?  "  said 
the  delighted  gypsy.  "  Do  you  prepare  your 
talk  like  sermons  ?  I  hope  you  have  prepared 
something  nice  for  me.  If  it  is  very  nice,  I  may 
give  you  this  bunch  of  holly." 

She  was  dressed  as  he  had  seen  her  previously, 
but  for  a  cluster  of  holly  berries  at  her  breast. 

"  1  don't  know  that  you  will  think  it  nice," 
the  minister  answered,  slowly,  "  but  my  duty  — " 

"If  it  is  about  duty,"  entreated  Babbie, 
"  don't  say  it.  Don't,  and  I  will  give  you  the 
berries." 

She  took  the  berries  from  her  dress,  smiling 
triumphantly  the  while  like  one  who  had  discov- 
ered a  cure  for  duty  ;  and  instead  of  pointing  the 
finger  of  wrath  at  her,  Gavin  stood  expectant. 


Continued   Misbehaviour  177 

"  But  no,"  he  said,  remembering  who  he  was, 
and  pushing  the  gift  from  him,  "  I  will  not  be 
bribed.      I  must  tell  you  —  " 

"  Now,"  said  the  Egyptian,  sadly,  "  I  see  you 
are  angry  with  me.  Is  it  because  I  said  I  lived 
in  a  tree  ?      Do  forgive  me  for  that  dreadful  lie." 

She  had  gone  on  her  knees  before  he  could 
stop  her,  and  was  gazing  imploringly  at  him,  with 
her  hands  clasped. 

"  You  are  mocking  me  again,"  said  Gavin, 
"  but  I  am  not  angry  with  you.  Only  you 
must  understand  —  " 

She  jumped  up  and  put  her  fingers  to  her 
ears. 

"  You  see  I  can  hear  nothing,"  she  said. 

"  Listen  while  I  tell  you  —  " 

"  I  don't  hear  a  word.  Why  do  you  scold  me 
when  I  have  kept  my  promise  .?  If  I  dared  to 
take  my  fingers  from  my  ears  I  would  give  you 
the  money  for  Nanny.  And,  Mr.  Dishart,  I 
must  be  gone  in  five  minutes." 

"In  five  minutes,"  echoed  Gavin,  with  such  a 
dismal  face  that  Babbie  heard  the  words  with  her 
eyes,  and  dropped  her  hands. 

"  Why  are  you  in  such  haste  ?  "  he  asked,  tak- 
ing the  five  pounds  mechanically,  and  forgetting 
all  that  he  had  meant  to  say. 

"  Because  they  require  me  at  home,"  she 
answered,  with  a  sly  glance  at  her  fir.  "  And, 
remember,  when  I  run  away  you  must  not  follow 
me." 

"  I  won't,"  said  Gavin,  so  promptly  that  she 
was  piqued. 

"  Why  not .?  "  she  asked.    "  But  of  course  you 


lyS  The   Little   Minister 

only  came  here  for  the  money.  Well,  you  have 
got  it.      Good-bye." 

"  You  know  that  was  not  what  I  meant," 
said  Gavin,  stepping  after  her.  "  I  have  told 
you  already  that,  whatever  other  people  say, 
I   trust  you.     I   believe  in  you.   Babbie." 

"  Was  that  what  you  were  saying  to  the  tree?  " 
asked  the  Egyptian,  demurely.  Then,  perhaps 
thinking  it  wisest  not  to  press  this  point,  she  con- 
tinued, irrelevantly,  "It  seems  such  a  pity  that 
you  are  a  minister." 

"A  pity  to  be  a  minister!"  exclaimed  Gavin, 
indignantly.  "Why,  why,  you,  —  why.  Babbie, 
how  have  you  been  brought  up  ?  " 

"  In  a  curious  way,"  Babbie  answered,  shortly, 
"  but  I  can't  tell  you  about  that  just  now.  Would 
you  like  to  hear  all  about  me  ?  "  Suddenly  she 
seemed  to  have  become  confidential. 

"  Do  you  really  think  me  a  gypsy  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  I  have  tried  not  to  ask  myself  that  question." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  it  seems  like  doubting  your  word." 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  think  of  me  at  all 
without  wondering  who  I  am." 

"  No,  and  so  I  try  not  to  think  of  you  at  all." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  that  you  need  do  that." 

"  I  have  not  quite  succeeded." 

The  Egyptian's  pique  had  vanished,  but  she 
may  have  thought  that  the  conversation  was 
becoming  dangerous,   for  she  said,  abruptly : 

"  Well,  I  sometimes  think  about  you." 

"  Do  you  ?  "  said  Gavin,  absurdly  gratified. 
"  What  do  you  think  about  me  ?  " 


Continued   Misbehaviour  179 

"  I  wonder,"  answered  the  Egyptian,  pleasantly, 
"  which  of  us  is  the  taller," 

Gavin's  fingers  twitched  with  mortification,  and 
not  only  his  fingers  but  his  toes. 

"  Let  us  measure,"  she  said,  sweetly,  putting 
her  back  to  his.  "  You  are  not  stretching  your 
neck,  are  you  ?  " 

But  the  minister  broke  away  from  her. 

"  There  is  one  subject,"  he  said,  with  great 
dignity,  "  that  I  allow  no  one  to  speak  of  in  my 
presence,  and  that  is  my  —  my  height." 

His  face  was  as  white  as  his  cravat  when  the 
surprised  Egyptian  next  looked  at  him,  and  he 
was  panting  like  one  who  had  run  a  mile.  She 
was  ashamed  of  herself,  and  said  so. 

"  It  is  a  topic  I  would  rather  not  speak 
about,"  Gavin  answered,  dejectedly,  "  especially 
to  you." 

He  meant  that  he  would  rather  be  a  tall  man 
in  her  company  than  in  any  other,  and  possibly 
she  knew  this,  though  all  she  answered  was  : 

"  You  wanted  to  know  if  I  am  really  a  gypsy. 
Well,  I  am." 

"An  ordinary  gypsy?" 

"  Do  you  think  me  ordinary?" 

"  I  wish  I  knew  what  to  think  of  you." 

"  Ah,  well,  that  is  my  forbidden  topic.  But 
we  have  a  good  many  ideas  in  common,  after  all, 
have  we  not,  though  you  are  only  a  minis —  I 
mean,  though  I  am  only  a  gypsy  ?  " 

There  fell  between  them  a  silence  that  gave 
Babbie  time  to  remember  she  must  go. 

"  I  have  already  stayed  too  long,"  she  said. 
"  Give  my  love  to  Nanny,  and   say  that   I   am 


i8o  The  Little   Minister 

coming  to  see  her  soon,  perhaps  on  Monday. 
I  don't  suppose  you  will  be  there  on  Monday, 
Mr.  Dishart?" 

"1  —  I  cannot  say." 

"  No,  you  will  be  too  busy.  Are  you  to  take 
the  holly  berries  ?  " 

"  1  had  better  not,"  said  Gavin,  dolefully. 

"  Oh,  if  you  don't  want  them  —  " 

"  Give  them  to  me,"  he  said,  and  as  he  took 
them  his  hand  shook. 

"  I  know  why  you  are  looking  so  troubled," 
said  the  Egyptian,  archly.  "  You  think  I  am  to 
ask  you  the  colour  of  my  eyes,  and  you  have  for- 
gotten again." 

He  would  have  answered,  but  she  checked  him. 

"  Make  no  pretence,"  she  said,  severely ;  "  I 
know  you  think  they  are  blue." 

She  came  close  to  him  until  her  face  almost 
touched  his. 

"  Look  hard  at  them,"  she  said,  solemnly, 
"  and  after  this  you  may  remember  that  they  are 
black,  black,  black  !  " 

At  each  repetition  of  the  word  she  shook  her 
head  in  his  face.  She  was  adorable.  Gavin's 
arms  —  but  they  met  on  nothing.  She  had  run 
awav. 

When  the  little  minister  had  gone,  a  man  came 
from  behind  a  tree  and  shook  his  fist  in  the 
direction  taken  by  the  gypsy.  It  was  Rob  Dow, 
black  with  passion. 

"  It's  the  Egyptian  !  "  he  cried.  "  You  limmer, 
wha  are  you  that  hae  got  baud  o'  the  minister?  " 

He  pursued  her,  but  she  vanished  as  from 
Gavin  in  Windyghoul. 


Continued   Misbehaviour 


i8i 


"  A  common  Egyptian  !  "  he  muttered,  when 
he  had  to  give  up  the  search.  "  But  take  care, 
you  little  devil,"  he  called  aloud  ;  "  take  care  ;  if 
I  catch  you  playing  pranks  wi'  that  man  again, 
I'll  wring  your  neck  like  a  hen's  !  " 


CHAPTER  XVII 

INTRUSION    OF    HAGGART    INTO    THESE    PAGES 
AGAINST    THE    AUTHOr's    WISH 

MARGARET  having  heard  the  doctor  say 
that  one  may  catch  cold  in  the  back,  had 
decided  instantly  to  line  Gavin's  waistcoat  with 
flannel.  She  was  thus  engaged,  with  pins  in  her 
mouth,  and  the  scissors  hiding  from  her  every 
time  she  wanted  them,  when  Jean,  red  and  flur- 
ried, abruptly  entered  the  room. 

"  There  !  I  forgot  to  knock  at  the  door  again," 
Jean  exclaimed,  pausing  contritely. 

"  Never  mind.  Is  it  Rob  Dow  wanting  the 
minister?"  asked  Margaret,  who  had  seen  Rob 
pass  the  manse  dyke. 

"  Na,  he  wasna  wanting  to  see  the  minister." 
"  Ah,  then,  he   came   to  see  you,  Jean,"  said 
Margaret,  archly. 

"A  widow  man!"  cried  Jean,  tossing  her  head. 
"  But  Rob  Dow  was  in  no  condition  to  be  friendly 
wi'  onybody  the  now." 

"  Jean,  you  don't  mean  that  he  has  been  drink- 
ing again  ?  " 

"  I  canna  say  he  was  drunk." 
"  Then  what  condition  was  he  in  ?  " 
"He  was  in   a  —  a  swearing  condition,"  Jean 
answered,  guardedly.     "  But  what  I  want  to  speir 

182 


Intrusion  of  Haggart  183 

at  you  is,  can  I  gang  down  to  the  Tenements  for 
a  minute  ?     I'll  run  there  and  back." 

"  Certainly  you  can  go,  Jean,  but  you  must  not 
run.  You  are  always  running.  Did  Dow  bring 
you  word  that  you  were  wanted  in  the  Tene- 
ments ?  " 

"  No  exactly,  but  I  —  I  want  to  consult  Tam- 
mas  Haggart  about  —  about  something." 

"  About  Dow,  I  believe,  Jean  ?  " 

"  Na,  but  about  something  he  has  done.  Oh, 
ma'am,  you  surely  dinna  think  I  would  take  a 
widow  man  ?  " 

It  was  the  day  after  Gavin'5  meeting  with  the 
Egyptian  at  the  Kaims,  and  here  is  Jean's  real 
reason  for  wishing  to  consult  Haggart.  Half  an 
hour  before  she  hurried  to  the  parlour,  she  had 
been  at  the  kitchen  door  wondering  whether  she 
should  spread  out  her  washing  in  the  garret,  or 
risk  hanging  it  in  the  courtyard.  She  had  just 
decided  on  the  garret  when  she  saw  Rob  Dow 
morosely  regarding  her  from  the  gateway. 

"  Whaur  is  he  ?  "  growled  Rob. 

"  He's  out,  but  it's  no  for  me  to  say  whaur  he 
is,"  replied  Jean,  whose  weakness  was  to  be  con- 
sidered a  church  official.  "  No  that  I  ken," 
truthfulness  compelled  her  to  add,  for  she  had  an 
ambition  to  be  everything  she  thought  Gavin 
would  like  a  woman  to  be. 

Rob  seized  her  wrists  viciously,  and  glowered 
into  her  face. 

"  You're  ane  o*  them,"  he  said. 

"  Let  me  go.     Ane  o'  what  ?  " 

"  Ane  o'  thae  limmers  called  women." 

"Sal,"  retorted  Jean,  with  spirit,  "you're  ane 


184  The  Little  Minister 

o'  thae  brutes  called  men.  You're  drunk,  Rob 
Dow." 

"In  the  legs  maybe,  but  no  higher.  I  haud  a 
heap." 

"  Drunk  again,  after  all  your  promises  to  the 
minister !  And  you  said  yoursel'  that  he  had 
pulled  you  out  o'  hell  by  the  root." 

"  It's  himsel'  that  has  flung  me  back  again," 
Rob  said,  wildly.  "Jean  Baxter,  what  does  it 
mean  when  a  minister  carries  flowers  in  his 
pouch ;  ay,  and  takes  them  out  to  look  at  them 
ilka  minute  ?  " 

"  How  do  you  ken  about  the  holly?  "  asked 
Jean,  off^  her  guard. 

"  You  limmer,"  said  Dow,  "  you've  been  in 
his  pouches." 

"  It's  a  lie  !  "  cried  the  outraged  Jean.  "  I 
just  saw  the  holly  this  morning  in  a  jug  on  his 
chimley." 

"  Carefully  put  by  ?  Is  it  hod  on  the  chimley  ? 
Does  he  stand  looking  at  it?  Do  you  tell  me 
he's  fond-like  o't  ?  " 

"  Mercy  me  !  "  Jean  exclaimed,  beginning  to 
shake  ;  "  wha  is  she,  Rob  Dow  ?  " 

"  Let  me  see  it  first  in  its  jug,"  Rob  answered, 
slyly,  "  and  syne  I  may  tell  you." 

This  was  not  the  only  time  Jean  had  been 
asked  to  show  the  minister's  belongings.  Snecky 
Hobart,  among  others,  had  tried  on  Gavin's  hat 
in  the  manse  kitchen,  and  felt  queer  for  some 
time  afterwards.  Women  had  been  introduced 
on  tiptoe  to  examine  the  handle  of  his  umbrella. 
But  Rob  had  not  come  to  admire.  He  snatched 
the  holly  from  Jean's  hands,  and  casting  it  on  the 


Intrusion  of  Haggart  185 

ground,  pounded  it  with  his  heavy  boots,  crying, 
"  Greet  as  you  Hke,  Jean.  That's  the  end  o'  his 
flowers,  and  if  I  had  the  tawpie  he  got  them  frae 
I  would  serve  her  in  the  same  way." 

"  I'll  tell  him  what  you've  done,"  said  terrified 
Jean,  who  had  tried  to  save  the  berries  at  the 
expense  of  her  fingers. 

"  Tell  him,"  Dow  roared  ;  "  and  tell  him  what 
I  said,  too.  Ay,  and  tell  him  I  was  at  the  Kaims 
yestreen.  Tell  him  I'm  hunting  high  and  low 
for  an  Egyptian  woman." 

He  flung  recklessly  out  of  the  courtyard,  leav- 
ing Jean  looking  blankly  at  the  mud  that  had 
been  holly  lately.  Not  his  act  of  sacrilege  was 
distressing  her,  but  his  news.  Were  these  berries 
a  love-token  ?  Had  God  let  Rob  Dow  say 
they  were  a  gypsy's  love-token,  and  not  slain 
him  ^ 

That  Rob  spoke  of  the  Egyptian  of  the  riots 
Jean  never  doubted.  It  was  known  that  the 
minister  had  met  this  woman  in  Nanny  Web- 
ster's house,  but  was  it  not  also  known  that  he 
had  given  her  such  a  talking  to  as  she  could 
never  come  above  ?  Many  could  repeat  the 
words  in  which  he  had  announced  to  Nanny  that 
his  wealthy  friends  in  Glasgow  were  to  give  her 
all  she  needed.  They  could  also  tell  how  majes- 
tic he  looked  when  he  turned  the  Egyptian  out 
of  the  house.  In  short,  Nanny  having  kept  her 
promise  of  secrecy,  the  people  had  been  forced 
to  construct  the  scene  in  the  mud  house  for  them- 
selves, and  it  was  only  their  story  that  was  known 
to  Jean. 

She   decided    that,    so  far   as    the  gypsy   was 


1 86  The  Little   Minister 

concerned,  Rob  had  talked  trash.  He  had  seen 
the  holly  in  the  minister's  hand,  and,  being  in 
drink,  had  mixed  it  up  with  the  gossip  about  the 
Egyptian.  But  that  Gavin  had  preserved  the 
holly  because  of  the  donor  was  as  obvious  to 
Jean  as  that  the  vase  in  her  hand  was  empty. 
Who  could  she  be  ^  No  doubt  all  the  single 
ladies  in  Thrums  .were  in  love  with  him,  but 
that,  Jean  was  sure,  had  not  helped  them  a  step 
forward. 

To  think  was  to  Jean  a  waste  of  time.  Dis- 
covering that  she  had  been  thinking,  she  was 
dismayed.  There  were  the  wet  clothes  in  the 
basket  looking  reproachfully  at  her.  She  has- 
tened back  to  Gavin's  room  with  the  vase,  but 
it  too  had  eyes,  and  they  said,  "  When  the  min- 
ister misses  his  holly  he  will  question  you." 
Now  Gavin  had  already  smiled  several  times  to 
Jean,  and  once  he  had  marked  passages  for  her 
in  her  "  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  with  the  result  that 
she  prized  the  marks  more  even  than  the  pas- 
sages. To  lose  his  good  opinion  was  terrible  to 
her.  In  her  perplexity  she  decided  to  consult 
wise  Tammas  Haggart,  and  hence  her  appeal  to 
Margaret. 

To  avoid  Chirsty,  the  humourist's  wife,  Jean 
sought  Haggart  at  his  workshop  window,  which 
was  so  small  that  an  old  book  sufficed  for  its 
shutter.  Haggart,  whom  she  could  see  distinctly 
at  his  loom,  soon  guessed  from  her  knocks  and 
signs  (for  he  was  strangely  quick  in  the  uptake) 
that  she  wanted  him  to  open  the  window. 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you  confidentially," 
Jean  said,  in  a  low  voice.     "If  you  saw  a  grand 


Intrusion  of  Haggart  187 

man  gey  fond  o'  a  flower,  what  would  you 
think  ?  " 

"  I  would  think,  Jean,"  Haggart  answered, 
reflectively,  "  that  he  had  gien  siller  for't ;  ay,  I 
would  wonder  —  " 

"  What  would  you  wonder  ?  " 

"  I  would  wonder  how  muckle  he  paid." 

"  But  if  he  was  a  —  a  minister,  and  keepit  the 
flower  —  say  it  was  a  common  rose  —  fond-like 
on  his  chimley,  what  would  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  would  think  it  was  a  black-burning  disgrace 
for  a  minister  to  be  fond  o'  flowers." 

"  I  dinna  baud  wi'  that." 

"Jean,"  said  Haggart,  "I  allow  no  one  to 
contradict  me." 

"  It  wasna  my  design.  But,  Tammas,  if  a  — 
a  minister  was  fond  o'  a  particular  flower  —  say  a 
rose  —  and  you  destroyed  it  by  an  accident,  when 
he  wasna  looking,  what  would  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  would  gie  him  another  rose  for't." 

"  But  if  you  didna  want  him  to  ken  you  had 
meddled  wi't  on  his  chimley,  what  would  you  do?" 

"  I  would  put  a  new  rose  on  the  chimley,  and 
he  would  never  ken  the  difi'er." 

"That's  what  I'll  do,"  muttered  Jean,  but  she 
said,  aloud  : 

"  But  it  micht  be  that  particular  rose  he 
Hked  ? " 

"  Havers,  Jean.  To  a  thinking  man  one  rose 
is  identical  wi'  another  rose.  But  how  are  you 
speiring  ?  " 

"  Just  out  o'  curiosity,  and  I  maun  be  stepping 
now.  Thank  you  kindly,  Tammas,  for  your 
humour." 


1 88  The   Little   Minister 

"  You're  welcome,"  Haggart  answered,  and 
closed  his  window. 

That  day  Rob  Dow  spent  in  misery,  but  so 
little  were  his  fears  selfish  that  he  scarcely  gave  a 
thought  to  his  conduct  at  the  manse.  For  an 
hour  he  sat  at  his  loom  with  his  arms  folded. 
Then  he  slouched  out  of  the  house,  cursing  little 
Micah,  so  that  a  neighbour  cried,  "  You  drucken 
scoundrel  !  "  after  him.  "He  may  be  a  wee 
drunk,"  said  Micah,  in  his  father's  defence,  "  but 
he's  no  mortal."  Rob  wandered  to  the  Kaims 
in  search  of  the  Egyptian,  and  returned  home 
no  happier.  He  flung  himself  upon  his  bed 
and  dared  Micah  to  light  the  lamp.  About 
gloaming  he  rose,  unable  to  keep  his  mouth 
shut  on  his  thoughts  any  longer,  and  staggered 
to  the  Tenement,  to  consult  Haggart.  He  found 
the  humourist's  door  ajar,  and  Wearyworld  lis- 
tening at  it.  "  Out  o'  the  road !  "  cried  Rob, 
savagely,  and  flung  the  policeman  into  the  gutter. 

"  That  was  ill  dune,  Rob  Dow,"  Wearyworld 
said,  picking  himself  up  leisurely. 

"  I'm  thinking  it  was  weel  dune,"  snarled 
Rob. 

"  Ay,"  said  Wearyworld,  "  we  needna  quarrel 
about  a  diflference  o'  opeenion  ;  but,  Rob  —  " 

Dow,  however,  had  already  entered  the  house 
and  slammed  the  door. 

"  Ay,  ay,"  muttered  Wearyworld,  departing, 
"  you  micht  hae  stood  still,  Rob,  and  argued 
it  out  wi'  me." 

In  less  than  an  hour  after  his  conversation 
with  Jean  at  the  window  it  had  suddenly  struck 
Haggart  that  the  minister  she  spoke  of  must  be 


Intrusion  of  Haggart  189 

Mr.  Dishart.  In  two  hours  he  had  confided  his 
suspicions  to  Chirsty.  In  ten  minutes  she  had 
filled  the  house  with  gossips.  Rob  arrived  to 
find  them  in  full  cry. 

"Ay,  Rob,"  said  Chirsty,  genially,  for  gossip 
levels  ranks,  "  you're  just  in  time  to  hear  a  query 
about  the  minister." 

"  Rob,"  said  the  Glen  Ouharity  post,  from 
whom  I  subsequently  got  the  story,  "  Mr.  Dish- 
art  has  fallen  in  —  in  —  what  do  you  call  the 
thing,  Chirsty .?  " 

Birse  knew  well  what  the  thing  was  called,  but 
the  word  is  a  staggerer  to  say  in  company. 

"In  love,"  answered  Chirsty,  boldly. 

"  Now  we  ken  what  he  was  doing  in  the 
country  yestreen,"  said  Snecky  Hobart,  "  the 
which  has  been  bothering  us  sair." 

"  The  manse  is  fu'  o'  the  flowers  she  sends 
him,"  said  Tibbie  Craik.  "  Jean's  at  her  wits'- 
end  to  ken  whaur  to  put  them  a'." 

"Wha  is  she?" 

It  was  Rob  Dow  who  spoke.  All  saw  he  had 
been  drinking,  or  they  might  have  wondered  at 
his  vehemence.  As  it  was,  everybody  looked 
at  every  other  body,  and  then  everybody  sighed. 

"  Ay,  wha  is  she  ?  "  repeated  several. 

"  I  see  you  ken  nothing  about  her,"  said  Rob, 
much  relieved  ;  and  he  then  lapsed  into  silence. 

"We  ken  a'  about  her,"  said  Snecky,  "except 
just  wha  she  is.  Ay,  that's  what  we  canna  bot- 
tom.     Maybe  you  could  guess,  Tammas  ?  " 

"  Maybe  I  could,  Sneck,"  Haggart  replied, 
cautiously  ;  "  but  on  that  point  I  offer  no  opinion." 

"  If  she  bides  on  the  Kaims  road,"  said  Tibbie 


i^o  The  Little  Minister. 

Craik,  "  she  maun  be  a  farmer's  dochter.  What 
say  you  to  Bell  Finlay  ?  " 

"  Na ;  she's  U.  P.  But  it  micht  be  Loups  o' 
Malcohn's  sister.  She's  promised  to  Muckle 
Haws ;  but  no  doubt  she  would  gie  him  the 
go-by  at  a  word  frae  the  minister." 

"  It's  mair  likely,"  said  Chirsty,  "  to  be  the 
factor  at  the  Spittal's  lassie.  The  factor  has  a 
grand  garden,  and  that  would  account  for  such 
basketfuls  o'  flowers." 

"  Whaever  she  is,"  said  Birse,  "I'm  thinking 
he  could  hae  done  better." 

"  I'll  be  fine  pleased  wi'  ony  o'  them,"  said 
Tibbie,  who  had  a  magenta  silk,  and  so  was 
jealous  of  no  one. 

"  It  hasna  been  proved,"  Haggart  pointed  out, 
"  that  the  flowers  came  frae  thae  parts.  She  may 
be  sending  them  frae  Glasgow." 

"  I  aye  understood  it  was  a  Glasgow  lady," 
said  Snecky.  "  He'll  be  like  the  Tilliedrum 
minister  that  got  a  lady  to  send  him  to  the  col- 
lege on  the  promise  that  he  would  marry  her  as 
soon  as  he  got  a  kirk.  She  made  him  sign  a 
paper." 

"  The  far-seeing  limmer,"  exclaimed  Chirsty. 
"  But  if  that's  what  Mr.  Dishart  has  done,  how 
has  he  kept  it  so  secret  ?  " 

"  He  wouldna  want  the  women  o'  the  congre- 
gation to  ken  he  was  promised  till  after  they  had 
voted  tor  him." 

"  I  dinna  baud  wi'  that  explanation  o't,"  said 
Haggart,  "  but  I  may  tell  you  that  I  ken  for  sure 
she's  a  Glasgow  leddy.  Lads,  ministers  is  near 
aye   bespoke   afore   they're   licensed.     There's   a 


Intrusion  of  Haggart  191 

michty  competition  for  them  in  the  big  toons. 
Ay,  the  leddies  just  stand  at  the  college  gates,  as 
you  may  say,  and  snap  them  up  as  they  come 
out." 

"And  just  as  well  for  the  ministers,  I'se  up- 
haud,"  said  Tibbie,  "  for  it  saves  them  a  heap 
o'  persecution  when  they  come  to  the  like  o' 
Thrums.  There  was  Mr.  Meiklejohn,  the  U, 
P.  minister :  he  was  no  sooner  placed  than  every 
genteel  woman  in  the  town  was  persecuting  him. 
The  Miss  Dobies  was  the  maist  shameless  ;  they 
fair  hunted  him." 

"  Ay,"  said  Snecky ;  "  and  in  the  tail  o'  the 
day  ane  o'  them  snacked  him  up.  Billies,  did 
you  ever  hear  o'  a  minister  being  refused  ?  " 

"  Never." 

"  Weel,  then,  I  have  ;  and  by  a  widow  woman, 
too.  His  name  was  Samson,  and  if  it  had  been 
Tamson  she  would  hae  ta'en  him.  Ay,  you  may 
look,  but  it's  true.  Her  name  was  Turnbull, 
and  she  had  another  gent  after  her,  name  o' 
Tibbets.  She  couldna  make  up  her  mind  atween 
them,  and  for  awhile  she  just  keeped  them  dan- 
gling on.  Av,  but  in  the  end  she  took  Tibbets. 
And  what,  think  you,  was  her  reason  ?  As  you 
ken,  thae  grand  folk  has  their  initials  on  their 
spoons  and  nicht-gowns.  Ay,  weel,  she  thocht  it 
would  be  mair  handy  to  take  Tibbets,  because  if 
she  had  ta'en  the  minister  the  Vs  would  have 
had  to  be  changed  to  S's.    It  was  thoctfu'  o'  her." 

"  Is  Tibbets  living  ?  "  asked  Haggart,  sharply. 

"  No  ;  he's  dead." 

"  What,"  asked  Haggart,  "  was  the  corp  to 
trade .?  " 


1^2  The  Little  Minister 

"  I  dinna  ken." 

"  I  thocht  no,"  said  Haggart,  triumphantly. 
"  Weel,  I  warrant  he  was  a  minister,  too.  Ay, 
catch  a  woman  giving  up  a  minister,  except  for 
another  minister." 

All  were  looking  on  Haggart  with  admiration, 
when  a  voice  from  the  door  cried  : 

"  Listen,  and  LU  tell  you  a  queerer  ane  than 
that." 

"  Dagont,"  cried  Birse,  "  it's  Wearywarld,  and 
he  has  been  hearkening.      Leave  him  to  me." 

When  the  post  returned,  the  conversation  was 
back  at  Mr.  Dishart. 

"Yes,  lathies,"  Haggart  was  saying,  "daft- 
ness about  women  comes  to  all,  gentle  and  sim- 
ple, common  and  colleged,  humourists  and  no 
humourists.  You  say  Mr.  Dishart  has  preached 
ower  muckle  at  women  to  stoop  to  marriage,  but 
that  makes  no  differ.  Mony  a  humorous  thing 
hae  I  said  about  women,  and  yet  Chirsty  has  me. 
It's  the  same  wi'  ministers.  A'  at  aince  they  see 
a  lassie  no  unlike  ither  lassies,  away  goes  their 
learning,  and  they  skirl  out,  'You  dawtie ! ' 
That's  what  comes  to  all." 

"  But  it  hasna  come  to  Mr.  Dishart,"  cried 
Rob  Dow,  jumping  to  his  feet.  He  had  sought 
Haggart  to  tell  him  all,  but  now  he  saw  the 
wisdom  of  telling  nothing.  "  I'm  sick  o'  your 
blathers.  Instead  o'  the  minister's  being  sweet- 
hearting  yesterday,  he  was  just  at  the  Kaims 
visiting  the  gamekeeper.  I  met  him  in  the 
Wast  town-end,  and  gaed  there  and  back  wi'  him." 

"  That's  proof  it's  a  Glasgow  leddy,"  said 
Snecky. 


Intrusion  of  Haggart  193 

"  I  tell  you  there's  no  leddy  ava  ! "  swore 
Rob. 

"  Yea,  and  wha  sends  the  baskets  o'  flowers, 
then  ?  " 

"  There  was  only  one  flower,"  said  Rob, 
turning  to  his  host. 

"  I  aye  understood,"  said  Haggart,  heavily, 
"  that  there  was  only  one  flower." 

"  But  though  there  was  just  ane,"  persisted 
Chirsty,  "  what  we  want  to  ken  is  wha  gae  him 
it." 

"  It  was  me  that  gae  him  it,"  said  Rob  ;  "  it 
was  growing  on  the  roadside,  and  I  plucked  it 
and  gae  it  to  him." 

The  company  dwindled  away  shamefacedly,  yet 
unconvinced ;  but  Haggart  had  courage  to  say, 
slowly  : 

"  Yes,  Rob,  I  had  aye  a  notion  that  he  got  it 
frae  you." 

Meanwhile,  Gavin,  unaware  that  talk  about 
him  and  a  woman  unknown  had  broken  out  in 
Thrums,  was  gazing,  sometimes  lovingly  and 
again  with  scorn,  at  a  little  bunch  of  holly  berries 
which  Jean  had  gathered  from  her  father's  gar- 
den. Once  she  saw  him  fling  them  out  of  his 
window,  and  then  she  rejoiced.  But  an  hour 
afterwards  she  saw  him  pick  them  up,  and  then 
she  mourned.  Nevertheless,  to  her  great  delight, 
he  preached  his  third  sermon  against  Woman  on 
the  following  Sabbath,  It  was  universally  ac- 
knowledged to  be  the  best  of  the  series.  It  was 
also  the  last. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

CADDAM  LOVE    LEADING    TO    A    RUPTURE 

GAVIN  told  himself  not  to  go  near  the  mud 
house  on  the  following  Monday  ;  but  he 
went.  The  distance  is  half  a  mile,  and  the  time 
he  took  was  two  hours.  This  was  owing  to  his 
setting  out  due  west  to  reach  a  point  due  north  ; 
yet  with  the  intention  of  deceiving  none  save 
himself.  His  reason  had  warned  him  to  avoid 
the  Egyptian,  and  his  desires  had  consented  to  be 
dragged  westward  because  they  knew  he  had 
started  too  soon.  When  the  proper  time  came 
they  knocked  reason  on  the  head  and  carried  him 
straight  to  Caddam.  Here  reason  came  to,  and 
again  began  to  state  its  case.  Desires  permitted 
him  to  halt,  as  if  to  argue  the  matter  out,  but 
were  thus  tolerant  merely  because  from  where  he 
stood  he  could  see  Nanny's  doorway.  When  Bab- 
bie emerged  from  it  reason  seems  to  have  made  one 
final  effort,  for  Gavin  quickly  took  that  side  of  a 
tree  which  is  loved  of  squirrels  at  the  approach  of 
an  enemy.  He  looked  round  the  tree-trunk  at 
her,  and  then  reason  discarded  him.  The  gypsy 
had  two  emxpty  pans  in  her  hands.  For  a  second 
she  gazed  in  the  minister's  direction,  then  de- 
murely leaped  the  ditch  of  leaves  that  separated 
Nanny's  yard  from  Caddam,  and  strolled  into  the 

194 


Love   Leading  to  a   Rupture  195 

wood.  Discovering  with  indignation  that  he  had 
been  skullcing  behind  the  tree,  Gavin  came  into  the 
open.  How  good  of  the  Egyptian,  he  reflected, 
to  go  to  the  well  for  water,  and  thus  save  the  old 
woman's  arms  !  Reason  shouted  from  near  the 
manse  (he  only  heard  the  echo)  that  he  could 
still  make  up  on  it.  "  Come  along,"  said  his  de- 
sires, and  marched  him  prisoner  to  the  well. 

The  path  which  Babbie  took  that  day  is  lost  in 
blaeberry  leaves  now,  and  my  little  maid  and  I 
lately  searched  for  an  hour  before  we  found  the  well. 
It  was  dry,  choked  with  broom  and  stones,  and 
broken  rusty  pans,  but  we  sat  down  where  Babbie 
and  Gavin  had  talked,  and  I  stirred  up  many 
memories.  Probably  two  of  those  pans,  that 
could  be  broken  in  the  hands  to-day  like  short- 
bread, were  Nanny's,  and  almost  certainly  the 
stones  are  fragments  from  the  great  slab  that  used 
to  cover  the  well.  Children  like  to  peer  into 
wells  to  see  what  the  world  is  like  at  the  other 
side,  and  so  this  covering  was  necessary.  Rob 
Angus  was  the  strong  man  who  bore  the  stone  to 
Caddam,  flinging  it  a  yard  before  him  at  a  time. 
The  well  had  also  a  wooden  lid  with  leather 
hinges,  and  over  this  the  stone  was  dragged. 

Gavin  arrived  at  the  well  in  time  to  ofler  Babbie 
the  loan  of  his  arms.  In  her  struggle  she  had 
taken  her  lips  into  her  mouth,  but  in  vain  did  she 
tug  at  the  stone,  which  refused  to  do  more  than 
turn  round  on  the  wood.  But  for  her  presence, 
the  minister's  effbrts  would  have  been  equally 
futile.  Though  not  strong,  however,  he  had  the 
national  horror  of  being  beaten  before  a  spectator, 
and  once  at  school  he  had  won  a  fight  by  telling 


ic)6  The   Little   Minister 

his  big  antagonist  to  come  on  until  the  boy  was 
tired  of  pummelling  him.  As  he  fought  with  the 
stone  now,  pains  shot  through  his  head,  and  his 
arms  threatened  to  come  away  at  the  shoulders ; 
but  remove  it  he  did. 

"  How  strong  you  are ! "  Babbie  said,  with 
open  admiration. 

I  am  sure  no  words  of  mine  could  tell  how 
pleased  the  minister  was ;  yet  he  knew  he  was  not 
strong,  and  might  have  known  that  she  had  seen 
him  do  many  things  far  more  worthy  of  admira- 
tion without  admiring  them.  This,  indeed,  is  a  sad 
truth,  that  we  seldom  give  our  love  to  what  is 
worthiest  in  its  object. 

"  How  curious  that  we  should  have  met  here," 
Babbie  said,  in  her  dangerously  friendly  way,  as 
they  filled  the  pans.  "Do  you  know  I  quite 
started  when  your  shadow  fell  suddenly  on  the 
stone.  Did  you  happen  to  be  passing  through 
the  wood  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  truthful  Gavin,  "  I  was  look- 
ing for  you.  I  thought  you  saw  me  from  Nanny's 
door." 

"  Did  you  ?  I  only  saw  a  man  hiding  behind 
a  tree,  and  of  course  I  knew  it  could  not  be  you." 

Gavin  looked  at  her  sharply,  but  she  was  not 
laughing  at  him. 

"It  was  I,"  he  admitted;  "but  I  was  not 
exactly  hiding  behind  the  tree." 

"  You  had  only  stepped  behind  it  for  a 
moment,"  suggested  the  Egyptian. 

Her  gravity  gave  way  to  laughter  under 
Gavin's  suspicious  looks,  but  the  laughing  ended 
abruptly.     She  had  heard  a  noise  in  the  wood. 


Love   Leading  to  a   Rupture  1 97 

Gavin  heard  it,  too,  and  they  both  tvirned  round 
in  time  to  see  two  ragged  boys  running  from 
them.  When  boys  are  very  happy  they  think 
they  must  be  doing  wrong,  and  in  a  wood,  of 
which  they  are  among  the  natural  inhabitants, 
they  always  take  flight  from  the  enemy,  adults,  if 
given  time.  For  my  own  part,  when  I  see  a  boy 
drop  from  a  tree  I  am  as  little  surprised  as  if  he 
were  an  apple  or  a  nut.  But  Gavin  was  startled, 
picturing  these  spies  handing  in  the  new  sensa- 
tion about  him  at  every  door,  as  a  district  visitor 
distributes  tracts.  The  gypsy  noted  his  uneasi- 
ness, and  resented  it. 

"  What  does  it  feel  like  to  be  afraid  ? "  she 
asked,  eyeing  him. 

"  I  am  afraid  of  nothing,"  Gavin  answered, 
offended  in  turn. 

"Yes,  you  are.  When  you  saw  me  come  out 
of  Nanny's  you  crept  behind  a  tree ;  when  these 
boys  showed  themselves  you  shook.  You  are 
afraid  of  being  seen  with  me.  Go  away,  then ; 
I  don't  want  you." 

"  Fear,"  said  Gavin,  "  is  one  thing,  and  pru- 
dence is  another." 

"  Another  name  for  it,"  Babbie  interposed. 

"  Not  at  all ;  but  I  owe  it  to  my  position  to  be 
careful.  Unhappily  you  do  not  seem  to  feel  — 
to  recognise  —  to  know  —  " 

"  To  know  what  ?  " 

"  Let  us  avoid  the  subject." 

"  No,"  the  Egyptian  said,  petulantly.  "  I 
hate  not  to  be  told  things.  Why  must  you 
be  ' prudent  ? ' " 

"  You  should  see,"  Gavin  replied,  awkwardly, 


198  The  Little  Minister 

"  that  there  is  a  —  a  difference  between  a  minister 
and  a  gypsy." 

"But  if  1  am  willing  to  overlook  it?"  asked 
Babbie,  impertinently. 

Gavin  beat  the  brushwood  mournfully  with  his 
staff. 

"  I  cannot  allow  you,"  he  said,  "  to  talk  dis- 
respectfully of  my  calling.  It  is  the  highest  a 
man  can  follow.     I  wish  —  " 

He  checked  himself;  but  he  was  wishing  she 
could  see  him  in  his  pulpit. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  the  gypsy,  reflectively,  "  one 
must  be  very  clever  to  be  a  minister/' 

"As  for  that  —  "  answered  Gavin,  waving  his 
hand  grandly. 

"And  it  must  be  nice,  too,"  continued  Babbie, 
"  to  be  able  to  speak  for  a  whole  hour  to  people 
who  can  neither  answer  nor  go  away.  Is  it  true 
that  before  you  begin  to  preach  you  lock  the 
door  to  keep  the  congregation  in  ?  " 

"  I  must  leave  you  if  you  talk  in  that  way." 

"  I  only  wanted  to  know." 

"  Oh,  Babbie,  I  am  afraid  you  have  little  ac- 
quaintance with  the  inside  of  churches.  Do  you 
sit  under  anybody  ?  " 

"  Do  I  sit  under  anybody  ?  "  repeated  Babbie, 
blankly. 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  the  minister  sighed? 
"  Whom  do  you  sit  under  ?  "  was  his  form  of 
salutation  to  strangers. 

"  I  mean,  where  do  you  belong  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Wanderers,"  Babbie  answered,  still  mis- 
understanding him,  "  belong  to  nowhere  in 
particular." 


Love   Leading  to  a  Rupture  199 

"  I  am  only  asking  you  if  you  ever  go  to 
church  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  is  what  you  mean.  Yes,  I  go 
often." 

"What  church?" 

"  You  promised  not  to  ask  questions." 

"  I  only  mean  what  denomination  do  you 
belong  to  ?  " 

"Oh,  the  —  the —  Is  there  an  English 
church  denomination  ?  " 

Gavin  groaned. 

"  Well,  that  is  my  denomination,"  said  Babbie, 
cheerfully.  "  Some  day,  though,  I  am  coming  to 
hear  you  preach.  I  should  like  to  see  how  you 
look  in  your  gown.'* 

"  We  don't  wear  gowns." 

"  What  a  shame  !  But  I  am  coming,  never- 
theless. I  used  to  like  going  to  church  in 
Edinburgh." 

"  You  have  lived  in   Edinburgh  ?  " 

"  We  gypsies  have  lived  everywhere,"  Babbie 
said,  lightly,  though  she  was  annoyed  at  having 
mentioned  Edinburgh. 

"  But  all  gypsies  don't  speak  as  you  do,"  said 
Gavin,  puzzled  again.   "I  don't  understand  you." 

"  Of  course  you  dinna,"  replied  Babbie,  in 
broad  Scotch.  "  Maybe,  if  you  did,  you  would 
think  that  it's  mair  imprudent  in  me  to  stand 
here  cracking  clavers  wi'  the  minister  than  for  the 
minister  to  waste  his  time  cracking  wi'  me." 

"  Then  why  do  it  ?  " 

"  Because —  Oh,  because  prudence  and  I 
always  take  different  roads." 

"  Tell  me  who  you  are.  Babbie,"  the  minister 


200  The   Little   Minister 

entreated ;  "  at  least  tell  me  where  your  encamp- 
ment is." 

"  You  have  warned  me  against  imprudence," 
she  said. 

"  I  want,"  Gavin  continued,  earnestly,  "  to 
know  your  people,  your  father  and  mother." 

"Why?" 

"  Because,"  he  answered,  stoutly,  "  I  like  their 
daughter." 

At  that  Babbie's  fingers  played  on  one  of  the 
pans,  and,  for  the  moment,  there  was  no  more 
badinage  in  her. 

"  You  are  a  good  man,"  she  said,  abruptly ; 
"  but  you  will  never  know  my  parents." 

"Are  they  dead.?" 

"  They  may  be  ;   I   cannot  tell." 

"  This  is  all  incomprehensible  to  me." 

"  I  suppose  it  is.  I  never  asked  any  one  to 
understand  me." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  said  Gavin,  excitedly ;  "  but 
the  time  has  come  when  I  must  know  everything 
of  you  that  is  to  be  known." 

Babbie  receded  from  him  in  quick  fear. 

"  You  must  never  speak  to  me  in  that  way 
again,"  she  said,  in  a  warning  voice. 

"In  what  way  ?  " 

Gavin  knew  what  way  very  well,  but  he 
thirsted  to  hear  in  her  words  what  his  own 
had  implied.  She  did  not  choose  to  oblige 
him,  however. 

"  You  will  never  understand  me,"  she  said. 
"  I  daresay  I  might  be  more  like  other  people 
now,  if — if  I  had  been  brought  up  differently. 
Not,"  she  added,  passionately,  "  that  I   want  to 


Love   Leading  to  a   Rupture  201 

be  like  others.  Do  you  never  feel,  when  you 
have  been  living  a  humdrum  life  for  months,  that 
you  must  break  out  of  it,  or  go  crazy  ?  " 

Her  vehemence  alarmed  Gavin,  who  hastened 
to  reply : 

"  My  life  is  not  humdrum.  It  is  full  of  excite- 
ment, anxieties,  pleasures,  and  I  am  too  fond  of 
the  pleasures.  Perhaps  it  is  because  I  have  more 
of  the  luxuries  of  life  than  you  that  I  am  so 
content  with  my  lot." 

"  Why,  what  can  you  know  of  luxuries  ?  " 

"  I  have  eighty  pounds  a  year." 

Babbie  laughed.  "  Are  ministers  so  poor  ?  " 
she  asked,  calling  back  her  gravity. 

"  It  is  a  considerable  sum,"  said  Gavin,  a 
little  hurt,  for  it  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever 
heard  any  one  speak  disrespectfully  of  eighty 
pounds. 

The  Egyptian  looked  down  at  her  ring,  and 
smiled. 

"  I  shall  always  remember  your  saying  that," 
she  told  him,  "  after  we  have  quarrelled." 

"  We  shall  not  quarrel,"  Gavin  said,  decidedly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  we  shall." 

"  We  might  have  done  so  once,  but  we  know 
each  other  too  well  now." 

"  That  is  why  w^e  are  to  quarrel." 

"About  what?"  said  the  minister.  "I  have 
not  blamed  you  for  deriding  my  stipend,  though 
how  it  can  seem  small  in  the  eyes  of  a  gypsy  —  " 

"  Who  can  afford,"  broke  in  Babbie,  "  to  give 
Nanny  seven  shillings  a  week  ?  " 

"  True,"  Gavin  said,  uncomfortably,  while  the 
Egyptian  again    toyed  with   her   ring.     She  was 


202  The   Little   Minister 

too  impulsive  to  be  reticent  except  now  and  then, 
and  suddenly  she  said,  "  You  have  looked  at  this 
ring  before  now.  Do  you  know  that  if  you  had 
it  on  vour  finger  you  would  be  more  worth  rob- 
bing than  with  eighty  pounds  in  each  of  your 
pockets?  " 

"  Where  did  you   get  it, "   demanded   Gavin, 

fiercely. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  told  you  that,"  the  gypsy  said, 
regretfully. 

"Tell  me  how  you  got  it?"  Gavin  insisted, 
his  face  now  hard. 

"  Now,  you  see,  we  are  quarrelling." 

"  I  must  know." 

"  Must  know !  You  forget  yourself,"  she 
said,  haughtily. 

"  No,  but  I  have  forgotten  myself  too  long. 
Where  did  you  get  that  ring  ?  " 

"  Good  afternoon  to  you,"  said  the  Egyptian, 
lifting  her  pans. 

"  It  is  not  good  afternoon,"  he  cried,  detaining 
her.  "  It  is  good-bye  for  ever,  unless  you  answer 
me. 

"  As  you  please,"  she  said.  "  I  will  not  tell 
you  where  I  got  my  ring.  It  is  no  affair  of 
yours." 

"  Yes,  Babbie,  it  is." 

She  was  not,  perhaps,  greatly  grieved  to  hear 
him  say  so,  for  she  made  no  answer. 

"  You  are  no  gypsy,"  he  continued,  suspi- 
ciously. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  she  answered,  again  taking  the 
pans. 

"  This  dress  is  but  a  disguise." 


Love   Leading  to  a  Rupture  203 

"It  may  be.  Why  don't  you  go  away  and 
leave  me  ?  " 

"  I  am  going,"  he  replied,  wildly.  "  I  will 
have  no  more  to  do  with  you.  Formerly  I 
pitied  you,  but —  " 

He  could  not  have  used  a  word  more  calcu- 
lated to  rouse  the  Egyptian's  ire,  and  she  walked 
away  with  her  head  erect.  Only  once  did  she 
look  back,  and  it  was  to  say  : 

"  This  is  prudence  —  now." 


CHAPTER   XIX 

CIRCUMSTANCES    LEADING    TO     THE    FIRST    SERMON 
IN    APPROVAL    OF    WOMEN 

A  YOUNG  man  thinks  that  he  alone  of 
mortals  is  impervious  to  love,  and  so  the 
discovery  that  he  is  in  it  suddenly  alters  his 
views  of  his  own  mechanism.  It  is  thus  not 
unlike  a  rap  on  the  funny-bone.  Did  Gavin 
make  this  discovery  when  the  Egyptian  left 
him  ?  Apparently  he  only  came  to  the  brink 
of  it  and  stood  blind.  He  had  driven  her  from 
him  for  ever,  and  his  sense  of  loss  was  so  acute 
that  his  soul  cried  out  for  the  cure  rather  than  for 
the  name  of  the  malady. 

In  time  he  would  have  realised  what  had  hap- 
pened, but  time  was  denied  him,  for  just  as  he 
was  starting  for  the  mud  house  Babbie  saved  his 
dignity  by  returning  to  him.  It  was  not  her  cus- 
tom to  fix  her  eyes  on  the  ground  as  she  walked, 
but  she  was  doing  so  now,  and  at  the  same  time 
swinging  the  empty  pans.  Doubtless  she  had 
come  back  for  more  water,  in  the  belief  that 
Gavin  had  gone.  He  pronounced  her  name 
with  d  sense  of  guilt,  and  she  looked  up  sur- 
prised, or  seemingly  surprised,  to  find  him  still 
there. 

"  I  thought  you  had  gone  away  long  ago,"  she 
said,  stiffly. 

204 


In  Approval   of  Women  205 

"  Otherwise,"  asked  Gavin,  the  dejected,  "  you 
would  not  have  come  back  to  the  well  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  I  am  very  sorry.  Had  you  waited  another 
moment  I  should  have  been  gone." 

This  was  said  in  apology,  but  the  wilful 
Egyptian  chose  to  change  its  meaning. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  blame  me  for  disturbing 
you,"  she  declared,  with  warmth. 

"  I  did  not.      I  only  —  " 

"  You  could  have  been  a  mile  away  by  this 
time.     Nanny  wanted  more  water." 

Babbie  scrutinised  the  minister  sharply  as  she 
made  this  statement.  Surely  her  conscience 
troubled  her,  for  on  his  not  answering  imme- 
diately she  said,  "  Do  you  presume  to  disbelieve 
me  ?  What  could  have  made  me  return  except 
to  fill  the  pans  again  ?  " 

•  "  Nothing,"  Gavin  admitted,  eagerly,  "  and  I 
assure  you  —  " 

Babbie  should  have  been  grateful  to  his  dense- 
ness,  but  it  merely  set  her  mind  at  rest. 

"  Say  anything  against  me  you  choose,"  she 
told  him.  "  Say  it  as  brutally  as  you  like,  for  I 
won't  listen." 

She  stopped  to  hear  his  response  to  that,  and 
she  looked  so  cold  that  it  almost  froze  on  Gavin's 
lips. 

"  I  had  no  right,"  he  said,  dolefully,  "  to  speak 
to  you  as  I  did." 

"  You  had  not,"  answered  the  proud  Egyptian. 
She  was  looking  away  from  him  to  show  that  his 
repentance  was  not  even  interesting  to  her.  How- 
ever, she  had  forgotten  already  not  to  listen. 


2o6  The   Little   Minister 

"  What  business  is  it  of  mine  ?  "  asked  Gavin, 
amazed  at  his  late  presumption,  "  whether  you 
are  a  gypsy  or  no  ? " 

"  None  whatever." 

"  And  as  for  the  ring —  " 

Here  he  gave  her  an  opportunity  of  allowing 
that  his  curiosity  about  the  ring  was  warranted. 
She  declined  to  help  him,  however,  and  so  he 
had  to  go  on. 

"  The  ring  is  yours,"  he  said,  "  and  why 
should  vou  not  wear  it?" 

"  Why,  indeed  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  a  very  bad  temper." 

He  paused  for  a  contradiction,  but  she  nodded 
her  head  in  agreement. 

"  And  it  is  no  wonder,"  he  continued,  "  that 
you  think  me  a  —  a  brute." 

"  I'm  sure  it  is  not." 

"  But,  Babbie,  I  want  you  to  know  that  I 
despise  myself  for  my  base  suspicions.  No 
sooner  did  I  see  them  than  I  loathed  them  and 
myself  for  harbouring  them.  Despite  this  mys- 
tery, I  look  upon  you  as  a  noble-hearted  girl. 
I  shall  always  think  of  you  so." 

This  time  Babbie  did  not  reply. 

"  That  was  all  I  had  to  say,"  concluded  Gavin, 
"  except  that  I  hope  you  will  not  punish  Nanny 
for  my  sins.     Good-bye." 

"  Good-bye,"  said  the  Egyptian,  who  was 
looking  at  the  well. 

The  minister's  legs  could  not  have  heard  him 
give  the  order  to  march,  for  they  stood  waiting. 

"  I  thought,"  said  the  Egyptian,  after  a  mo- 
ment, "  that  you  said  you  were  going." 


In  Approval  of  Women  207 

"I  was  only  —  brushing  my  hat,"  Gavin  an- 
swered with  dignity.     "  You  want  me  to  go  ?  " 

She  bowed,  and  this  time  he  did  set  off. 

"You  can  go  if  you  like,"  she  remarked 
now. 

He  turned  at  this. 

"  But  you  said  —  "  he  began,  diffidently. 

"  No,  I  did  not,"  she  answered,  with  indigna- 
tion. 

He  could  see  her  face  at  last. 

"You  —  you  are  crying!"  he  exclaimed,  in 
bewilderment. 

"  Because  you  are  so  unfeeling,"  sobbed  Bab- 
bie. 

"  What  have  I  said,  what  have  I  done  ^  "  cried 
Gavin,  in  an  agony  of  self-contempt.  "  Oh,  that 
I  had  gone  away  at  once  !  " 

"  That  is  cruel," 

"  What  is  ?  " 

"  To  say  that." 

"  What  did  I  say  ?  " 

"  That  you  wished  you  had  gone  away." 

"  But  surely,"  the  minister  faltered,  "  you 
asked  me  to  go." 

"  How  can  you  say  so  ?  "  asked  the  gypsy, 
reproachfully. 

Gavin  was  distracted.  "  On  my  word,"  he 
said,  earnestly,  "  I  thought  you  did.  And  now 
I  have  made  you  unhappy.  Babbie,  I  wish  I 
were  anybody  but  myself;  1  am  a  hopeless 
lout." 

"  Now  you  are  unjust,"  said  Babbie,  hiding 
her  face. 

"  Again  ?     To  you  ?  " 


2o8  The  Little  Minister 

"  No,  you  stupid,  she  said,  beaming  on  him  in 
her  most  dehghtful  manner,  "  to  yourself!  " 

She  gave  him  both  her  hands  impetuously, 
and  he  did  not  let  them  go  until  she  added : 

"  I  am  so  glad  that  you  are  reasonable  at 
last.  Men  are  so  much  more  unreasonable  than 
women,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

"Perhaps  we  are,"  Gavin  said,  diplomatically. 

"  Of  course  you  are.  Why,  every  one  knows 
that.  Well,  I  forgive  you  ;  only  remember,  you 
have  admitted  that  it  was  all  your  fault  ?  " 

She  was  pointing  her  finger  at  him  like  a 
schoolmistress,  and  Gavin  hastened  to  answer: 

"  You  were  not  to  blame  at  all." 

"  I  like  to  hear  you  say  that,"  explained  the 
representative  of  the  more  reasonable  sex,  "  be- 
cause it  was  really  all  my  fault." 

"  No,  no." 

"  Yes,  it  was  ;  but  of  course  I  could  not  say  so 
until  you  had  asked  my  pardon.  You  must 
understand  that  ?  " 

The  representative  of  the  less  reasonable  sex 
could  not  understand  it,  but  he  agreed  recklessly, 
and  it  seemed  so  plain  to  the  woman  that  she 
continued,  confidentially  : 

"  I  pretended  that  I  did  not  want  to  make  it 
up,  but  I  did." 

"  Did  you  ^  "  asked  Gavin,  elated. 

"  Yes,  but  nothing  could  have  induced  me  to 
make  the  first  advance.     You  see  why  ?  " 

"  Because  I  was  so  unreasonable  ? "  asked 
Gavin,  doubtfully. 

"  Yes,  and  nasty.  You  admit  you  were 
nasty? " 


In  Approval  of  Women  209 

"  Undoubtedly,  I  have  an  evil  temper.  It  has 
brought  me  to  shame  many  times." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  Egyptian,  chari- 
tablv.     "  I  Hke  it.     I  believe  I  admire  bullies." 

"Did  I  bully  you  ?  " 

"  I  never  knew  such  a  bully.  You  quite 
frightened  me." 

Gavin  began  to  be  less  displeased  with  himself. 

"  You  are  sure,"  inquired  Babbie,  "  that  you 
had  no  right  to  question  me  about  the  ring  ?  " 

"  Certain,"  answered  Gavin. 

"  Then  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it,"  said  Babbie, 
"  for  it  is  natural  that  you  should  want  to 
know." 

He  looked  eagerly  at  her,  and  she  had  become 
serious  and  sad. 

"  I  must  tell  you  at  the  same  time,"  she  said, 
"  who  I  am,  and  then  —  then  we  shall  never  see 
each  other  any  more." 

"  Why  should  you  tell  me  ?  "  cried  Gavin,  his 
hand  rising  to  stop  her. 

"  Because  you  have  a  right  to  know,"  she 
replied,  now  too  much  in  earnest  to  see  that  she 
was  yielding  a  point.  "  I  should  prefer  not  to 
tell  you  ;  yet  there  is  nothing  wrong  in  my  secret, 
and  it  may  make  you  think  of  me  kindly  when  I 
have  gone  away." 

"  Don't  speak  in  that  way.  Babbie,  after  you 
have  forgiven  me." 

"  Did  I  hurt  you  ?  It  was  only  because  I 
know  that  you  cannot  trust  me  while  I  remain  a 
mystery.  I  know  you  would  try  to  trust  me, 
but  doubts  would  cross  your  mind.  Yes,  they 
would ;  they  are  the  shadows  that  mysteries  cast. 


2IO  The   Little   Minister 

Who  can  beHeve  a  gypsy  if  the  odds  are  against 
her?" 

"  I  can,"  said  Gavin ;  but  she  shook  her  head, 
and  so  would  he  had  he  remembered  three  recent 
sermons  of  his  own  preaching. 

"  I  had  better  tell  you  all,"  she  said,  with  an 
effort. 

"  It  is  my  turn  now  to  refuse  to  listen  to  you," 
exclaimed  Gavin,  who  was  only  a  chivalrous  boy. 
"  Babbie,  I  should  like  to  hear  your  story,  but 
until  you  want  to  tell  it  to  me  I  will  not  listen 
to  it.  I  have  faith  in  your  honour,  and  that  is 
sufficient." 

It  was  boyish,  but  I  am  glad  Gavin  said  it; 
and  now  Babbie  admired  something  in  him  that 
deserved  admiration.  His  faith,  no  doubt,  made 
her  a  better  woman. 

"  I  admit  that  I  would  rather  tell  you  nothing 
just  now,"  she  said,  gratefully.  "  You  are  sure 
you  will  never  say  again  that  you  don't  under- 
stand me  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure,"  said  Gavin,  bravely.  "  And  by 
and  by  you  will  offer  to  tell  me  of  your  free  will?" 

"  Oh,  don't  let  us  think  of  the  future,"  an- 
swered Babbie.  "  Let  us  be  happy  for  the 
moment." 

This  had  been  the  Egyptian's  philosophy 
always,  but  it  was  ill-suited  for  Auld  Licht  min- 
isters, as  one  of  them  was  presently  to  discover. 

"  I  want  to  make  one  confession,  though," 
Babbie  continued,  almost  reluctantly.  "  When 
you  were  so  nasty  a  little  while  ago,  I  didn't  go 
back  to  Nanny's.  I  stood  watching  you  from 
behind  a  tree,  and  then,  for  an  excuse  to  come 


In  Approval  of  Women  211 

back,  I  —  I  poured  out  the  water,  Yes,  and  I 
told  you  another  lie.  I  really  came  back  to 
admit  that  it  was  all  my  fault,  if  I  could  not  get 
you  to  say  that  it  was  yours.  I  am  so  glad  you 
gave  in  first." 

She  was  very  near  him,  and  the  tears  had  not 
yet  dried  on  her  eyes.  They  were  laughing  eyes, 
eyes  in  distress,  imploring  eyes.  Her  pale  face, 
smiling,  sad,  dimpled,  yet  entreating  forgiveness, 
was  the  one  prominent  thing  in  the  world  to  him 
just  then.  He  wanted  to  kiss  her.  He  would 
have  done  it  as  soon  as  her  eyes  rested  on  his, 
but  she  continued,  without  regarding  him  : 

"  How  mean  that  sounds  !  Oh,  if  I  were  a 
man  I  should  wish  to  be  everything  that  I  am 
not,  and  nothing  that  I  am.  I  should  scorn  to 
be  a  liar,  I  should  choose  to  be  open  in  all  things, 
I  should  trv  to  fight  the  world  honestly.  But  I 
am  only  a  woman,  and  so  —  well,  that  is  the  kind 
of  man  I  should  like  to  marry." 

"  A  minister  may  be  all  these  things,"  said 
Gavin,  breathlessly. 

"  The  man  I  could  love,"  Babbie  went  on,  not 
heeding  him,  almost  forgetting  that  he  was  there, 
"  must  not  spend  his  days  in  idleness  as  the  men 
I  know  do." 

"I  do  not." 

"He  must  be  brave,  no  mere  worker  among 
others,  but  a  leader  of  men." 

"  All  ministers  are." 

"  Who  makes  his  influence  felt." 

"  Assuredly." 

"  And  takes  the  side  of  the  weak  against  the 
strong,  even  though  the  strong  be  in  the  right." 


212  The   Little   Minister 

"  Always  my  tendency." 

"  A  man  who  has  a  mind  of  his  own,  and  hav- 
ing once  made  it  up  stands  to  it  in  defiance  even 

c        " 

or  — 

"  Of  his  session." 

"  Of  the  world.     He  must  understand  me." 

"  I  do." 

"  And  be  my  master." 

"  It  is  his  lawful  position  in  the  house." 

"  He  must  not  yield  to  my  coaxing  or  tempers." 

"It  would  be  weakness." 

"  But  compel  me  to  do  his  bidding ;  yes,  even 
thrash  me  if —  " 

"  If  you  won't  listen  to  reason.  Babbie,"  cried 
Gavin,  "  I  am  that  man  !  " 

Here  the  inventory  abruptly  ended,  and  these 
two  people  found  themselves  staring  at  each  other, 
as  if  of  a  sudden  they  had  heard  something  dread- 
ful. I  do  not  know  how  long  they  stood  thus, 
motionless  and  horrified.  I  cannot  tell  even 
which  stirred  first.  All  I  know  is  that  almost 
simultaneously  they  turned  from  each  other  and 
hurried  out  of  the  wood  in  opposite  directions. 


CHAPTER   XX 

END    OF    THE     STATE    OF    INDECISION 

LONG  before  I  had  any  thought  of  writing 
this  story,  I  had  told  it  so  often  to  my  Httle 
maid  that  she  now  knows  some  of  it  better  than  I. 
If  you  saw  me  looking  up  from  my  paper  to  ask 
her,  "  What  was  it  that  Birse  said  to  Jean  about 
the  minister's  flowers  ?  "  or,  "  Where  was  Hendry 
Munn  hidden  on  the  night  of  the  riots  ?  "  and 
heard  her  confident  answers,  you  would  conclude 
that  she  had  been  in  the  thick  of  these  events, 
instead  of  born  many  years  after  them.  I  men- 
tion this  now  because  I  have  reached  a  point 
where  her  memory  contradicts  mine.  She  main- 
tains that  Rob  Dow  was  told  of  the  meeting  in 
the  wood  by  the  two  boys  whom  it  disturbed, 
while  my  own  impression  is  that  he  was  a  witness 
of  it.  If  she  is  right,  Rob  must  have  succeeded 
in  frightening  the  boys  into  telling  no  other  per- 
son, for  certainly  the  scandal  did  not  spread  in 
Thrums.  After  all,  however,  it  is  only  important 
to  know  that  Rob  did  learn  of  the  meeting.  Its 
first  effect  was  to  send  him  sullenly  to  the  drink. 
Many  a  time  since  these  events  have  I  pictured 
what  might  have  been  their  upshot  had  Dow  con- 
fided their  discovery  to  me.  Had  I  suspected 
why  Rob  was  grown  so  dour  again,  Gavin's 
future   might   have  been   very   different.      I   was 

213 


214  ^^^  Little  Minister 

meeting  Rob  now  and  again  in  the  glen,  asking, 
with  an  affected  carelessness  he  did  not  bottom, 
for  news  of  the  little  minister,  but  what  he  told 
me  was  only  the  gossip  of  the  town  ;  and  what  I 
should  have  known,  that  Thrums  might  never 
know  it,  he  kept  to  himself  I  suppose  he  feared 
to  speak  to  Gavin,  who  made  several  efforts  to 
reclaim  him,  but  without  avail. 

Yet  Rob's  heart  opened  for  a  moment  to  one 
man,  or  rather  was  forced  open  by  that  man.  A 
few  days  after  the  meeting  at  the  well,  Rob  was 
bringing  the  smell  of  whisky  with  him  down 
Banker's  Close  when  he  ran  against  a  famous 
staff,  with  which  the  doctor  pinned  him  to  the 
wall. 

"  Ay,"  said  the  outspoken  doctor,  looking  con- 
temptuously into  Rob's  bleary  eyes,  "  so  this 
is  what  your  conversion  amounts  to  ?  Faugh  ! 
Rob  Dow,  if  you  were  half  a  man  the  very 
thought  of  what  Mr.  Dishart  has  done  for  you 
would  make  you  run  past  the  public-houses." 

"  It's  the  thocht  o'  him  that  sends  me  running 
to  them,"  growled  Rob,  knocking  down  the  staff.- 
"  Let  me  alane." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  demanded 
McQueen,  hooking  him   this  time. 

"  Speir  at  himsel' ;  speir  at  the  woman." 

"  What  woman  ?  " 

"  Take  your  staff  out  o'  my  neck." 

"  Not  till  you  tell  me  why  you,  of  all  people, 
are  speaking  against  the  minister." 

Torn  by  a  desire  for  a  confidant  and  loyalty  to 
Gavin,  Rob  was  already  in  a  fury. 

"  Say    again,"    he    burst    forth,    "  that    I    was 


End  of  the  State  of  Indecision         215 

speaking  agin  the  minister  and  I'll  practise  on 
you  what  I'm  awid  to  do  to  her." 

"  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  Wha's  wha  ?  " 

"The  woman  whom  the  minister  —  " 

"  I  said  nothing  about  a  woman,"  said  poor 
Rob,  alarmed  for  Gavin.  "  Doctor,  I'm  ready 
to  swear  afore  a  bailie  that  I  never  saw  them 
thegither  at  the  Kaims." 

"  The  Kaims  !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  suddenly 
enlightened.  "  Pooh  !  you  only  mean  the  Egyp- 
tian. Rob,  make  your  mind  easy  about  this.  I 
know  why  he  met  her  there." 

"  Do  you  ken  that  she  has  bewitched  him  ;  do 
you  ken  I  saw  him  trying  to  put  his  arms  round 
her  ;  do  you  ken  they  have  a  trysting-place  in 
Caddam  wood  ? " 

This  came  from  Rob  in  a  rush,  and  he  would 
fain  have  called  it  all  back. 

"  I'm  drunk,  doctor,  roaring  drunk,"  he  said, 
hastily,  "and  it  wasna  the  minister  I  saw  ava;  it 
was  another  man." 

Nothing  more  could  the  doctor  draw  from 
Rob,  but  he  had  heard  sufficient  to  smoke  some 
pipes  on.  Like  many  who  pride  themselves  on 
being  recluses,  McQueen  loved  the  gossip  that 
came  to  him  uninvited ;  indeed,  he  opened  his 
mouth  to  it  as  greedily  as  any  man  in  Thrums. 
He  respected  Gavin,  however,  too  much  to  find 
this  new  dish  palatable,  and  so  his  researches  to 
discover  whether  other  Auld  Lichts  shared  Rob's 
fears  were  conducted  with  caution.  "  Is  there  no 
word  of  your  minister's  getting  a  wife  yet?"  he 
asked  several,  but  only  got  for  answers,  "  There's 


2, 1 6  The   Little   Minister 

word  o'  a  Glasgow  leddy's  sending  him  baskets 
o'  flowers,"  or  "  He  has  his  een  open,  but  he's 
taking  his  time ;  ay,  he's  looking  for  the  blade  o' 
corn  in  the  stack  o'  chaff." 

This  convinced  McQueen  that  the  congrega- 
tion knew  nothing  of  the  Egyptian,  but  it  did 
not  satisfy  him,  and  he  made  an  opportunity  of 
inviting  Gavin  into  the  surgery.  It  was,  to  the 
doctor,  the  cosiest  nook  in  his  house,  but  to  me 
and  many  others  a  room  that  smelled  of  hearses. 
On  the  top  of  the  pipes  and  tobacco  tins  that 
littered  the  table  there  usually  lay  a  death  certifi- 
cate, placed  there  deliberately  by  the  doctor  to 
scare  his  sister,  who  had  a  passion  for  putting  the 
surgery  to  rights. 

"  By  the  way,"  McQueen  said,  after  he  and 
Gavin  had  talked  a  little  while,  "  did  I  ever 
advise  you  to  smoke  ?  " 

"It  is  your  usual  form  of  salutation,"  Gavin 
answered,  laughing.  "  But  I  don't  think  you 
ever  supplied  me  with  a  reason." 

"  I  daresay  not.  I  am  too  experienced  a  doctor 
to  cheapen  my  prescriptions  in  that  way.  How- 
ever, here  is  one  good  reason.  I  have  noticed, 
sir,  that  at  your  age  a  man  is  either  a  slave  to  a 
pipe  or  to  a  woman.  Do  you  want  me  to  lend 
you  a  pipe  now  ?  " 

"  Then  I  am  to  understand,"  asked  Gavin, 
slyly,  "  that  your  locket  came  into  your  posses- 
sion in  your  pre-smoking  days,  and  that  you 
merely  wear  it  from  habit  ?  " 

"  Tuts  !  "  answered  the  doctor,  buttoning  his 
coat.  "  I  told  you  there  was  nothing  in  the 
locket.      If  there  is,  I   have  forgotten  what  it  is." 


End  of  the  State  of  Indecision         217 

"  You  are  a  hopeless  old  bachelor,  I  see,"  said 
Gavin,  unaware  that  the  doctor  was  probing  him. 
He  was  surprised  next  moment  to  find  McQueen 
in  the  ecstasies  of  one  who  has  won  a  rubber. 

"  Now,  then,"  cried  the  jubilant  doctor,  "  as 
you  have  confessed  so  much,  tell  me  all  about 
her.     Name  and  address,  please." 

"  Confess  !     What  have  I  confessed  ?  " 

"  It  won't  do,  Mr.  Dishart,  for  even  your  face 
betrays  you.  No,  no,  I  am  an  old  bird,  but  I 
have  not  forgotten  the  ways  of  the  fledgelings. 
'  Hopeless  bachelor,'  sir,  is  a  sweetmeat  in  every 
young  man's  mouth  until  of  a  sudden  he  finds  it 
sour,  and  that  means  the  banns.  When  is  it  to 
be?" 

"  We  must  find  the  lady  first,"  said  the  minis- 
ter, uncomfortably. 

"  You  tell  me,  in  spite  of  that  face,  that  you 
have  not  fixed  on  her  ?  " 

"  The  difficulty,  I  suppose,  would  be  to  per- 
suade her  to  fix  on  me." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  But  you  admit  there  is  some 
one  r 

"  Who  would  have  me  ?  " 

"  You  are  wriggling  out  of  it.  Is  it  the 
banker's  daughter  ?  " 

"  No,"  Gavin  cried. 

"  I  hear  you  have  walked  up  the  back  wynd 
with  her  three  times  this  week.  The  town  is  in 
a  ferment  about  it." 

"  She  is  a  great  deal  in  the  back  wynd." 

"  Fiddle-de-dee !  I  am  oftener  in  the  back 
wynd  than  you,  and  I  never  meet  her  there." 

"  That  is  curious." 


ai8  The  Little  Minister 

"  No,  it  isn't,  but  never  mind.  Perhaps  you 
have  fallen  to  Miss  Pennycuick's  piano  ?  Did 
you  hear  it  going  as  we  passed  the  house?" 

"  She  seems  always  to  be  playing  on  her 
piano." 

"  Not  she ;  but  you  are  supposed  to  be 
musical,  and  so  when  she  sees  you  from  her 
window  she  begins  to  thump.  If  I  am  in  the 
school  wynd  and  hear  the  piano  going,  I  know 
you  will  turn  the  corner  immediately.  However, 
I  am  glad  to  hear  it  is  not  Miss  Pennycuick. 
Then  it  is  the  factor  at  the  Spittal's  lassie  ?  Well 
done,  sir.  You  should  arrange  to  have  the  wed- 
ding at  the  same  time  as  the  old  earl's,  which 
comes  off  in  summer,  I  believe." 

"  One  foolish  marriage  is  enough  in  a  day, 
doctor." 

"  Eh  ?  You  call  him  a  fool  for  marrying  a 
young  wife  ?  Well,  no  doubt  he  is,  but  he 
would  have  been  a  bigger  fool  to  marry  an  old 
one.  However,  it  is  not  Lord  Rintoul  we  are 
discussing,  but  Gavin  Dishart.  I  suppose  you 
know  that  the  factor's  lassie  is  an  heiress  ?  " 

"  And,  therefore,  would  scorn  me." 

"  Try  her,"  said  the  doctor,  drily.  "Her  father 
and  mother,  as  1  know,  married  on  a  ten-pound 
note.  But  if  I  am  wrong  again,  I  must  adopt 
the  popular  view  in  Thrums.  It  is  a  Glasgow 
lady,  after  all  ?  Man,  you  needn't  look  indignant 
at  hearing  that  the  people  are  discussing  your  in- 
tended. You  can  no  more  stop  it  than  a  doctor's 
orders  could  keep  Lang  Tammas  out  of  church. 
They  have  discovered  that  she  sends  you  flowers 
twice  every  week." 


End  of  the  State  of  Indecision         219 

"  They  never  reach  me,"  answered  Gavin,  then 
remembered  the  holly  and  winced. 

"  Some,"  persisted  the  relentless  doctor,  "  even 
speak  of  your  having  been  seen  together;  but 
of  course,  if  she  is  a  Glasgow  lady,  that  is  a 
mistake." 

"  Where  did  they  see  us  ?  "  asked  Gavin,  with 
a  sudden  trouble  in  his  throat. 

"You  are  shaking,"  said  the  doctor,  keenly, 
"  like  a  medical  student  at  his  first  operation. 
But  as  for  the  story  that  you  and  the  lady  have 
been  seen  together,  I  can  guess  how  it  arose.  Do 
you  remember  that  gypsy  girl  ?  " 

The  doctor  had  begun  by  addressing  the  fire, 
but  he  suddenly  wheeled  round  and  fired  his 
question  in  the  minister's  face.  Gavin,  however, 
did  not  even  blink. 

"Why  should  I  have  forgotten  her?"  he 
replied,  coolly. 

"  Oh,  in  the  stress  of  other  occupations.  But 
it  was  your  getting  the  money  from  her  at  the 
Kaims  for  Nanny  that  I  was  to  speak  of  Ab- 
surd though  it  seems,  I  think  some  dotard  must 
have  seen  you  and  her  at  the  Kaims,  and  mis- 
taken her  for  the  lady." 

McQueen  flung  himself  back  in  his  chair  to 
enjoy  this  joke. 

"  Fancy  mistaking  that  woman  for  a  lady  !  " 
he  said  to  Gavin,  who  had  not  laughed  with 
him. 

"  I  think  Nanny  has  some  justification  for 
considering  her  a  lady,"  the  minister  said,  firmly. 

"Well,  I  grant  that.  But  what  made  me 
guffaw  was  a  vision  of  the  harum-scarum,  devil- 


220  The   Little   Minister 

may-care  little  Egyptian  mistress  of  an  Auld 
Licht  manse  !  " 

"  She  is  neither  harum-scarum  nor  devil-may- 
care,"  Gavin  answered,  without  heat,  for  he  was 
no  longer  a  distracted  minister,  "  You  don't 
understand  her  as   I   do." 

"  No,  I  seem  to  understand  her  differently." 

"  What  do  you  know  of  her  ?  " 

"  That  is  just  it,"  said  the  doctor,  irritated  by 
Gavin's  coolness.  "  I  know  she  saved  Nanny 
from  the  poorhouse,  but  I  don't  know  where  she 
got  the  money.  I  know  she  can  talk  fine  English 
when  she  chooses,  but  I  don't  know  where  she 
learned  it.  I  know  she  heard  that  the  soldiers 
were  coming  to  Thrums  before  they  knew  of  their 
destination  themselves,  but  I  don't  know  who  told 
her.  You  who  understand  her  can  doubtless 
explain  these  matters  ?  " 

"  She  offered  to  explain  them  to  me,"  Gavin 
answered,  still  unmoved,  "  but  I  forbade  her." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  It  is  no  business  of  yours,  doctor.  Forgive 
me  for  saying  so." 

"In  Thrums,"  replied  McQueen,  "a  minister's 
business  is  everybody's  business.  I  have  often 
wondered  who  helped  her  to  escape  from  the  sol- 
diers that  night.  Did  she  offer  to  explain  that  to 
you  r 

«  She  did  not." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  the  doctor,  sharply,  "  because 
it  was  unnecessary  ?  " 

"  That  was  the  reason." 

"  You  helped  her  to  escape  ?  " 

"  I  did." 


End  of  the  State  of  Indecision         221 

"  And  you  are  not  ashamed  of  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  not." 

"  Why  were  you  so  anxious  to  screen  her?  " 

"  She  saved  some  of  my  people  from  gaol." 

"  Which  was  more  than  they  deserved." 

"  I  have  always  understood  that  you  concealed 
two  of  them  in  your  own  stable." 

"  Maybe  I  did,"  the  doctor  had  to  allow. 
"  But  I  took  my  stick  to  them  next  morning. 
Besides,  they  were  Thrums  folks,  while  you 
had  never  set  eyes  on  that  imp  of  mischief 
before." 

"  I  cannot  sit  here,  doctor,  and  hear  her  called 
names,"  Gavin  said,  rising,  but  McQueen  gripped 
him  by  the  shoulder. 

"  For  pity's  sake,  sir,  don't  let  us  wrangle  like 
a  pair  of  women.  I  brought  you  here  to  speak 
my  mind  to  you,  and  speak  it  I  will.  I  warn 
you,  Mr.  Dishart,  that  you  are  being  watched. 
You  have  been  seen  meeting  this  lassie  in  Caddam 
as  well  as  at  the  Kaims." 

"  Let  the  whole  town  watch,  doctor.  I  have 
met  her  openly." 

"  And  why  ?  Oh,  don't  make  Nanny  your 
excuse." 

"  I  won't.     I  met  her  because  I  love  her." 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  "  cried  McQueen.  "  You 
speak  as  if  you  would  marry  her." 

"Yes,"  replied  Gavin,  determinedly,  "and  I 
mean  to  do  it." 

The  doctor  flung  up  his  hands. 

"  I  give  you  up,"  he  said,  raging.  "I  give  you 
up.     Think  of  your  congregation,  man." 

"  I  have  been  thinking  of  them,  and  as  soon  as 


222  The   Little   Minister 

I  have  a  right  to  do  so,  I  shall  tell  them  what  I 
have  told  you." 

"  And  until  you  tell  them  I  will  keep  your 
madness  to  myself,  for  I  warn  you  that,  as  soon 
as  they  do  know,  there  will  be  a  vacancy  in  the 
Auld  Licht  kirk  of  Thrums." 

"  She  is  a  woman,"  said  Gavin,  hesitating, 
though  preparing  to  go,  "  of  whom  any  minister 
might  be  proud." 

"  She  is  a  woman,"  the  doctor  roared,  "  that  no 
congregation  would  stand.  Oh,  if  you  will  go, 
there  is  your  hat." 

Perhaps  Gavin's  face  was  whiter  as  he  left  the 
house  than  when  he  entered  it,  but  there  was  no 
other  change.  Those  who  were  watching  him 
decided  that  he  was  looking  much  as  usual,  ex- 
cept that  his  mouth  was  shut  very  firm,  from 
which  they  concluded  that  he  had  been  taking  the 
doctor  to  task  for  smoking.  They  also  noted 
that  he  returned  to  McQueen's  house  within  half 
an  hour  after  leaving  it,  but  remained  no  time. 

Some  explained  this  second  visit  by  saying 
that  the  minister  had  forgotten  his  cravat,  and 
had  gone  back  for  it.  What  really  sent  him 
back,  however,  was  his  conscience.  He  had  said 
to  McQueen  that  he  helped  Babbie  to  escape 
from  the  soldiers  because  of  her  kindness  to  his 
people,  and  he  returned  to  own  that  it  was  a  lie. 

Gavin  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  surgery, 
but  entered  without  waiting  for  a  response. 
McQueen  was  no  longer  stamping  through  the 
room,  red  and  furious.  He  had  even  laid  aside 
his  pipe.  He  was  sitting  back  in  his  chair, 
looking  half  mournfully,  half  contemptuously,  at 


•End  of  the  State  of  Indecision         2,23 

something  in  his  palm.  His  hand  closed  instinc- 
tively when  he  heard  the  door  open,  but  Gavin 
had  seen  that  the  object  was  an  open  locket. 

"It  was  only  your  reference  to  the  thing,"  the 
detected  doctor  said,  with  a  grim  laugh,  "  that 
made  me  open  it.  Forty  years  ago,  sir,  I  — 
Phew  !  it  is  forty-two  years,  and  I  have  not  got 
over  it  yet."  He  closed  the  locket  with  a  snap. 
"  I  hope  you  have  come  back,  Dishart,  to  speak 
more  rationally  ? " 

Gavin  told  him  why  he  had  come  back,  and 
the  doctor  said  he  was  a  fool  for  his  pains. 

"It  is  useless,  Dishart,  to  make  another  appeal 
to  you  ?  " 

"  Quite  useless,  doctor,"  Gavin  answered, 
promptly.     "  My  mind  is  made  up  at  last." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

NIGHT MARGARET FLASHING     OF    A     LANTERN 

THAT  evening  the  little  minister  sat  silently 
in  his  parlour.  Darkness  came,  and  with 
it  weavers  rose  heavy-eyed  from  their  looms, 
sleepy  children  sought  their  mothers,  and  the 
gate  of  the  field  above  the  manse  fell  forward  to 
let  cows  pass  to  their  byre ;  the  great  Bible  was 
produced  in  many  homes,  and  the  ten  o'clock 
bell  clanged  its  last  word  to  the  night.  Mar- 
garet had  allowed  the  lamp  to  burn  low.  Think- 
ing that  her  boy  slept,  she  moved  softly  to  his 
side  and  spread  her  shawl  over  his  knees.  He 
had  forgotten  her.  The  doctor's  warnings  scarcely 
troubled  him.  He  was  Babbie's  lover.  The 
mystery  of  her  w^as  only  a  veil  hiding  her  from 
other  men,  and  he  was  looking  through  it  upon 
the  face  of  his  beloved. 

It  was  a  night  of  long  ago,  but  can  you  not 
see  my  dear  Margaret  still  as  she  bends  over  her 
son  ?  Not  twice  in  many  days  dared  the  min- 
ister snatch  a  moment's  sleep  from  gray  morn- 
ing to  midnight,  and,  when  this  did  happen,  he 
.  jumped  up  by  and  by  in  shame,  to  revile  himself 
for  an  idler,  and  ask  his  mother  wrathfully  why 
she  had  not  tiunbled  him  out  of  his  chair.  To- 
night Margaret  was  divided  between  a  desire  to 
let  him  sleep  and  a  fear  of  his  self-reproach  when 

224 


Margaret  225 

he  awoke ;  and  so,  perhaps,  the  tear  fell  that 
roused  him. 

"  I  did  not  Hke  to  waken  you,"  Margaret  said, 
apprehensively.  "  You  must  have  been  very 
tired,  Gavin  ? " 

"  I  was  not  sleeping,  mother,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"  I  was  only  thinking." 

"  Ah,  Gavin,  you  never  rise  from  your  loom. 
It  is  hardly  fair  that  your  hands  should  be  so  full 
of  other  people's  troubles." 

"  They  only  fill  one  hand,  mother ;  I  carry  the 
people's  joys  in  the  other  hand,  and  that  keeps 
me  erect,  like  a  woman  between  her  pan  and 
pitcher.  I  think  the  joys  have  outweighed  the 
sorrows  since  we  came  here." 

"  It  has  been  all  joy  to  me,  Gavin,  for  you 
never  tell  me  of  the  sorrows.  An  old  woman 
has  no  right  to  be  so  happy." 

"Old  woman,  mother  1"  said  Gavin.  But 
his  indignation  was  vain.  Margaret  was  an  old 
woman.     I  made  her  old  before  her  time. 

"  As  for  these  terrible  troubles,"  he  went  on, 
"  I  forget  them  the  moment  I  enter  the  garden 
and  see  you  at  your  window.  And,  maybe,  I 
keep  some  of  the  joys  from  you  as  well  as  the 
troubles." 

Words  about  Babbie  leaped  to  his  mouth,  but 
with  an  effort  he  restrained  them.  He  must  not 
tell  his  mother  of  her  until  Babbie  of  her  free  will 
had  told  him  all  there  was  to  tell. 

"  I  have  been  a  selfish  woman,  Gavin." 

"  You  selfish,  mother !  "  Gavin  said,  smiling. 
"Tell  me  when  you  did  not  think  of  others 
before  yourself  ? " 


226  The   Little   Minister 

"  Always,  Gavin.  Has  it  not  been  selfishness 
to  hope  that  you  would  never  want  to  bring 
another  mistress  to  the  manse  ?  Do  you  remem- 
ber how  angry  you  used  to  be  in  Glasgow  when  I 
said  that  you  would  marry  some  day  ?  " 

"  I  remember,"  Gavin  said,  sadly. 

"  Yes  ;  you  used  to  say,  '  Don't  speak  of  such 
a  thing,  mother,  for  the  horrid  thought  of  it  is 
enough  to  drive  all  the  Hebrew  out  of  my  head.' 
Was  not  that  lightning  just  now  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  see  it.  What  a  memory  you  have, 
mother,  for  all  the  boyish  things  I  said." 

"  I  can't  deny,"  Margaret  admitted,  with  a  sigh, 
"  that  I  liked  to  hear  you  speak  in  that  way, 
though  I  knew  you  would  go  back  on  your 
word.     You  see,  you  have  changed  already." 

"  How,  mother  ?  "  asked  Gavin,  surprised. 

"  You  said  just  now  that  those  were  boyish 
speeches.  Gavin,  I  can't  understand  the  mothers 
who  are  glad  to  see  their  sons  married ;  though  I 
had  a  dozen  I  believe  it  would  be  a  wrench  to 
lose  one  of  them.  It  would  be  different  with 
daughters.     You  are  laughing,  Gavin  !  " 

"  Yes,  at  your  reference  to  daughters.  Would 
you  not  have  preferred  me  to  be  a  girl  ?  " 

"  'Deed  I  would  not,"  answered  Margaret,  with 
tremendous  conviction.  "  Gavin,  every  woman 
on  earth,  be  she  rich  or  poor,  good  or  bad,  offers 
up  one  prayer  about  her  first-born,  and  that  is, 
'  May  he  be  a  boy  ! '  " 

"  1  think  you  are  wrong,  mother.  The 
banker's  wife  told  me  that  there  is  nothing  for 
which  she  thanks  the  Lord  so  much  as  that  all 
her  children  are  girls." 


Margaret  227 

"  May  she  be  forgiven  for  that,  Gavin  !  "  ex- 
claimed Margaret;  "  though  she  maybe  did  right 
to  put  the  best  face  on  her  humiliation.  No,  no, 
there  are  many  kinds  of  women  in  the  world,  but 
there  never  was  one  yet  that  didn't  want  to  begin 
with  a  laddie.  You  can  speculate  about  a  boy  so 
much  more  than  about  a  girl.  Gavin,  what  is  it 
a  woman  thinks  about  the  day  her  son  is  born  ? 
Yes,  and  the  day  before,  too  ^  She  is  picturing 
him  a  grown  man,  and  a  slip  of  a  lassie  taking 
him  from  her.  Ay,  that  is  where  the  lassies  have 
their  revenge  on  the  mothers.  I  remember  as  if 
it  were  this  morning,  a  Harvie  fishwife  patting 
your  head  and  asking  who  was  your  sweetheart, 
and  I  could  never  thole  the  woman  again.  We 
were  at  the  door  of  the  cottage,  and  I  mind  I 
gripped  you  up  in  my  arms.  You  had  on  a  tar- 
tan frock  with  a  sash  and  diamond  socks.  When 
I  look  back,  Gavin,  it  seems  to  me  that  you  have 
shot  up  from  that  frock  to  manhood  in  a  single 
hour." 

"  There  are  not  many  mothers  like  you," 
Gavin  said,  laying  his  hand  fondly  on  Margaret's 
shoulder. 

"  There  are  many  better  mothers,  but  few  such 
sons.  It  is  easily  seen  why  God  could  not  afford 
me  another.    Gavin,  I  am  sure  that  was  lightning." 

"  I  think  it  was;  but  don't  be  alarmed,  mother." 

"  I  am  never  frightened  when  you  are  with 
me. 

"  And  I  always  will  be  with  you." 

"  Ah,  if  you  were  married  —  " 

"  Do  you  think,"  asked  Gavin,  indignandy, 
"  that  it  would  make  any  difference  to  you  ? " 


228  The   Little   Minister 

Margaret  did  not  answer.  She  knew  what  a 
difference  it  would  make. 

"  Except,"  continued  Gavin,  with  a  man's  ob- 
tuseness,  "  that  you  would  have  a  daughter  as 
well  as  a  son  to  love  you  and  take  care  of  you  ?  " 

Margaret  could  have  told  him  that  men  give 
themselves  away  needlessly  who  marry  for  the 
sake  of  their  mother,  but  all  she  said  was : 

"  Gavin,  I  see  you  can  speak  more  composedly 
of  marrying  now  than  you  spoke  a  year  ago.  If 
I  did  not  know  better,  I  should  think  a  Thrums 
young  lady  had  got  hold  of  you." 

It  was  a  moment  before  Gavin  replied ;  then 
he  said,  gaily  : 

"  Really,  mother,  the  way  the  best  of  women 
speak  of  each  other  is  lamentable.  You  say  I 
should  be  better  married,  and  then  you  take  for 
granted  that  every  marriageable  woman  in  the 
neighbourhood  is  trying  to  kidnap  me.  I  am 
sure  you  did  not  take  my  father  by  force  in 
that  way." 

He  did  not  see  that  Margaret  trembled  at  the 
mention  of  his  father.  He  never  knew  that  she 
was  many  times  pining  to  lay  her  head  upon  his 
breast  and  tell  him  of  me.  Yet  I  cannot  but 
believe  that  she  always  shook  when  Adam  Dish- 
art  was  spoken  of  between  them.  I  cannot 
think  that  the  long  cherishing  of  the  secret  which 
was  hers  and  mine  kept  her  face  steady  when  that 
horror  suddenly  confronted  her  as  now.  Gavin 
would  have  suspected  much  had  he  ever  sus- 
pected anything. 

"  I  know,"  Margaret  said,  courageously,  "  that 
you  would  be  better  married  ;  but  when  it  comes 


Margaret  229 

to  selecting  the  woman  I  grow  fearful.  O  Gavin!" 
she  said,  earnestly,  "  it  is  an  awful  thing  to  marry 
the  wrong  man  !  " 

Here  in  a  moment  had  she  revealed  much, 
though  far  from  all,  and  there  must  have  been 
many  such  moments  between  them.  But  Gavin 
was  thinking  of  his  own  affairs. 

"  You  mean  the  wrong  woman,  don't  you, 
-mother?"  he  said,  and  she  hastened  to  agree. 
But  it  was  the  wrong  man  she  meant. 

"  The  difficulty,  I  suppose,  is  to  hit  upon  the 
right  one?"  Gavin  said,  blithely, 

"  To  know  which  is  the  right  one  in  time," 
answered  Margaret,  solemnly.  "  But  I  am  say- 
ing nothing  against  the  young  ladies  of  Thrums, 
Gavin.  Though  I  have  scarcely  seen  them,  I 
know  there  are  good  women  among  them.  Jean 
says  —  " 

"  I  believe,  mother,"  Gavin  interposed,  re- 
proachfully, "  that  you  have  been  questioning 
Jean  about  them  ?  " 

"  Just  because  I  was  afraid  —  I  mean  because 
I  fancied  —  you  might  be  taking  a  liking  to  one 
of  them." 

"  And  what  is  Jean's  verdict  ?  " 

"  She  says  every  one  of  them  would  jump  at 
you,  like  a  bird  at  a  berry." 

"  But  the  berry  cannot  be  divided.  How 
would   Miss   Pennycuick  please  you,  mother?" 

"  Gavin  !  "  cried  Margaret,  in  consternation, 
"  you  don't  mean  to  —  But  you  are  laughing 
at  me  again." 

"  Then  there  is  the  banker's  daughter  ?  " 

"  I  can't  thole  her." 


230  The  Little  Minister 

"  Why,  I  question  if  you  ever  set  eyes  on  her, 
mother." 

"  Perhaps  not,  Gavin  ;  but  I  have  suspected 
her  ever  since  she  offered  to  become  one  of  your 
tract  distributors." 

"  The  doctor,"  said  Gavin,  not  ill  pleased,  "  was 
saying  that  either  of  these  ladies  would  suit  me." 

"  What  business  has  he,"  asked  Margaret, 
vindictively,  "  to  put  such  thoughts  into  your 
head  ?  " 

"  But  he  only  did  as  you  are  doing.  Mother, 
I  see  you  will  never  be  satisfied  without  selecting 
the  woman  for  me  yourself." 

"  Ay,  Gavin,"  said  Margaret,  earnestly  ;  "  and 
I  question  if  I  should  be  satisfied  even  then. 
But  I  am  sure  I  should  be  a  better  guide  to  you 
than  Doctor  McQueen  is." 

"  I  am  convinced  of  that.  But  I  wonder  what 
sort  of  woman  would  content  you  ? " 

"  Whoever  pleased  you,  Gavin,  would  content 
me,"  Margaret  ventured  to  maintain.  "  You 
would  only  take  to  a  clever  woman." 

"  She  must  be  nearly  as  clever  as  you,  mother." 

"  Hoots,  Gavin,"  said  Margaret,  smiHng,  "  I'm 
not  to  be  caught  with  chaff.  I  am  a  stupid, 
ignorant  woman." 

"  Then  I  must  look  out  for  a  stupid,  ignorant 
woman,  for  that  seems  to  be  the  kind  I  like," 
answered  Gavin,  of  whom  I  may  confess  here 
something  that  has  to  be  told  sooner  or  later.  It 
is  this  :  he  never  realised  that  Babbie  was  a  great 
deal  cleverer  than  himself.  Forgive  him,  you 
who  read,  if  you  have  any  tolerance  for  the 
creature,  man. 


Margaret  23 1 

"  She  will  be  terribly  learned  in  languages," 
pursued  Margaret,  "  so  that  she  may  follow  you 
in  your  studies,  as  I  have  never  been  able  to  do." 

"  Your  face  has  helped  me  more  than  Hebrew, 
mother,"  replied  Gavin.  "  I  will  give  her  no 
marks  for  languages." 

"  At  any  rate,"  Margaret  insisted,  "  she  must 
be  a  grand  housekeeper,  and  very  thrifty." 

"  As  for  that,"  Gavin  said,  faltering  a  little, 
"  one  can't  expect  it  of  a  mere  girl." 

"  I  should  expect  it,"  maintained  his  mother. 

"  No,  no ;  but  she  would  have  you,"  said 
Gavin,  happily,  "  to  teach  her  housekeeping." 

"  It  would  be  a  pleasant  occupation  to  me, 
that,"  Margaret  admitted.  "  And  she  would 
soon  learn  :  she  would  be  so  proud  of  her  posi- 
tion as  mistress  of  a  manse." 

"  Perhaps,"  Gavin  said,  doubtfully.  He  had 
no  doubt  on  the  subject  in  his  college  days. 

"  And  we  can  take  for  granted,"  continued  his 
mother,  "  that  she  is  a  lassie  of  fine  character." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Gavin,  holding  his  head 
high,  as  if  he  thought  the  doctor  might  be  watch- 
ing him. 

"  I  have  thought,"  Margaret  went  on,  "  that 
there  was  a  great  deal  of  wisdom  in  what  you 
said  at  that  last  marriage  in  the  manse,  the  one 
where,  you  remember,  the  best  man  and  the 
bridesmaid  joined  hands  instead  of  the  bride  and 
bridegroom." 

"  What  did  I  say  ? "  asked  the  little  minister, 
with  misgivings. 

"  That  there  was  great  danger  when  people 
married  out  of  their  own  rank  of  life." 


232  The  Little  Minister 

"Oh  —  ah  —  well,  of  course,  that  would  de- 
pend on  circumstances." 

"  They  were  wise  words,  Gavin.  There  was 
the  sermon,  too,  that  you  preached  a  month  or 
two  ago  against  marrying  into  other  denomina- 
tions. Jean  told  me  that  it  greatly  impressed 
the  congregation.  It  is  a  sad  sight,  as  you  said, 
to  see  an  Auld  Licht  lassie  changing  her  faith 
because  her  man  belongs  to  the  U.  P.'s." 

"  Did  I  say  that  ?  " 

"  You  did,  and  it  so  struck  Jean  that  she  told 
me  she  would  rather  be  an  old  maid  for  life,  '  the 
which,'  she  said, '  is  a  dismal  prospect,'  than  marry 
out  of  the  Auld  Licht  kirk." 

"  Perhaps  that  was  a  rather  narrow  view  I  took, 
mother.  After  all,  the  fitting  thing  is  .that  the 
wife  should  go  with  her  husband  ;  especially  if  it 
is  he  that  is  the  Auld  Licht." 

"  I  don't  hold  with  narrowness  myself,  Gavin," 
Margaret  said,  with  an  effort,  "  and  admit  that 
there  are  many  respectable  persons  in  the  other 
denominations.  But  though  a  weaver  might  take 
a  wife  from  another  kirk  without  much  scandal, 
an  Auld  Licht  minister's  madam  must  be  Auld 
Licht  born  and  bred.  The  congregation  would 
expect  no  less.  I  doubt  if  they  would  be  sure  of 
her  if  she  came  from  some  other  Auld  Licht 
kirk.  'Deed,  though  she  came  from  our  own 
kirk,  I'm  thinking  the  session  would  want  to 
catechise  her.  Ay,  and  if  all  you  tell  me  of 
Lang  Tammas  be  true  (for,  as  you  know,  I  never 
spoke  to  him),  I  warrant  he  would  catechise  the 
session." 

"  I  would  brook  no  interference  from  my  ses- 


Margaret  233 

sion,"  said  Gavin,  knitting  his  brows,  "  and  I  do 
not  consider  it  necessary  that  a  minister's  wife 
should  have  been  brought  up  in  his  denomina- 
tion. Of  course  she  would  join  it.  We  must 
make  allowance,  mother,  for  the  thousands  of 
young  women  who  live  in  places  where  there  is 
no  Auld  Licht  kirk." 

"You  can  pity  them,  Gavin,"  said  Margaret, 
"  without  marrying  them.  A  minister  has  his 
congregation  to  think  of" 

"  So  the  doctor  sa?ys,"  interposed  her  son. 

"  Then  it  was  just  like  his  presumption  !  " 
cried  Margaret.  "  A  minister  should  marry  to 
please  himself." 

"  Decidedly  he  should,"  Gavin  agreed,  eagerly, 
"  and  the  bounden  duty  of  the  congregation  is  to 
respect  and  honour  his  choice.  If  they  forget 
that  duty,  his  is  to  remind  them  of  it." 

"  Ah,  well,  Gavin,"  said  Margaret,  confidently, 
"  your  congregation  are  so  fond  of  you  that  your 
choice  would  doubtless  be  theirs.  Jean  tells  me 
that  even  Lang  Tammas,  though  he  is  so  obsti- 
nate, has  a  love  for  you  passing  the  love  of 
woman.  These  were  her  words.  Jean  is  more 
sentimental  than  you  might  think." 

"  1  wish  he  would  show  his  love,"  said  Gavin, 
"  by  contradicting  me  less  frequently." 

"  You  have  Rob  Dow  to  weigh  against  him." 

"  No ;  I  cannot  make  out  what  has  come  over 
Rob  lately.  He  is  drinking  heavily  again,  and 
avoiding  me.  The  lightning  is  becoming  very 
vivid." 

"  Yes,  and  I  hear  no  thunder.  There  is  an- 
other thing,  Gavin.      I  am  one  of  those  that  like 


1^4  The   Little   Minister 

to  sit  at  home,  but  if  you  had  a  wife  she  would 
visit  the  congregation.  A  truly  religious  wife 
would  be  a  great  help  to  you." 

"  Religious,"  Gavin  repeated,  slowly.  "  Yes, 
but  some  people  are  religious  without  speaking 
of  it.  If  a  woman  is  good  she  is  religious.  A 
good  woman  who  has  been,  let  us  say,  foolishly 
brought  up,  only  needs  to  be  shown  the  right 
way  to  tread  it.  Mother,  I  question  if  any  man, 
minister  or  layman,  ever  yet  fell  in  love  because 
the  woman  was  thrifty,  or  clever,  or  went  to 
church  twice  on  Sabbath," 

"  I  believe  that  is  true,"  Margaret  said,  "  and 
I  would  not  have  it  otherwise.  But  it  is  an 
awful  thing,  Gavin,  as  you  said  from  the  pulpit 
two  weeks  ago,  to  worship  only  at  a  beautiful 
face." 

"  You  think  too  much  about  what  I  say  in  the 
pulpit,  mother,"  Gavin  said,  with  a  sigh,  "  though 
of  course  a  man  who  fell  in  love  merely  with  a 
face  would  be  a  contemptible  creature.  Yet  I 
see  that  women  do  not  understand  how  beauty 
affects  a  man." 

"  Yes,  yes,  my  boy,  —  oh,  indeed,  they  do," 
said  Margaret,  who  on  some  matters  knew  far 
more  than  her  son. 

Twelve  o'clock  struck,  and  she  rose  to  go  to 
bed,  alarmed  lest  she  should  not  waken  early  in 
the  morning.  "  But  I  am  afraid  I  sha'n't  sleep," 
she  said,  "  if  that  lightning  continues," 

"  It  is  harmless,"  Gavin  answered,  going  to 
the  window.  He  started  back  next  moment,  and 
crying,  "  Don't  look  out,  mother,"  hastily  pulled 
down  the  blind. 


Margaret  2,3  5 

"Why,  Gavin,"  Margaret  said,  in  fear,  "you 
look  as  if  it  had  struck  you." 

"  Oh,  no,"  Gavin  answered,  with  a  forced 
laugh,  and   he  lit  her  lamp  for  her. 

But  it  had  struck  him,  though  it  was  not 
lightning.  It  was  the  flashing  of  a  lantern  against 
the  window  to  attract  his  attention,  and  the  holder 
of  the  lantern  was  Babbie. 

"  Good-night,  mother." 

"  Good-night,  Gavin.     Don't  sit  up  any  later." 


CHAPTER   XXII 


LOVERS 


ONLY  something  terrible,  Gavin  thought, 
could  have  brought  Babbie  to  him  at  such 
an  hour ;  yet  when  he  left  his  mother's  room  it 
was  to  stand  motionless  on  the  stair,  waiting  for 
a  silence  in  the  manse  that  would  not  come.  A 
house  is  never  still  in  darkness  to  those  who 
listen  intently  ;  there  is  a  whispering  in  distant 
chambers,  an  unearthly  hand  presses  the  snib  of 
the  window,  the  latch  rises.  Ghosts  were  created 
when  the  first  man  woke  in  the  night. 

Now  Margaret  slept.  Two  hours  earlier,  Jean, 
sitting  on  the  salt-bucket,  had  read  the  chapter 
with  which  she  always  sent  herself  to  bed.  In 
honour  of  the  little  minister  she  had  begun  her 
Bible  afresh  when  he  came  to  Thrums,  and  was 
progressing  through  it,  a  chapter  at  night,  sigh- 
ing, perhaps,  on  washing-days,  at  a  long  chapter, 
such  as  Exodus  twelfth,  but  never  making  two 
of  it.  The  kitchen  wag-at-the-wall  clock  was 
telling  every  room  in  the  house  that  she  had 
neglected  to  shut  her  door.  As  Gavin  felt  his 
way  down  the  dark  stair,  awakening  it  into  pro- 
test at  every  step,  he  had  a  glimpse  of  the  pendu- 
lum's shadow  running  back  and  forward  on  the 
hearth  ;  he  started  back  from  another  shadow  on 
the  lobby  wall,  and  then  seeing  it  start,  too,  knew 

236 


Lovers  237 

it  for  his  own.  He  opened  the  door  and  passed 
out  unobserved ;  it  was  as  if  the  sounds  and 
shadows  that  filled  the  manse  were  too  occupied 
with  their  game  to  mind  an  interloper. 

"  Is  that  you  ?  "  he  said  to  a  bush,  for  the 
garden  was  in  semi-darkness.  Then  the  lantern's 
flash  met  him,  and  he  saw  the  Egyptian  in  the 
summer-seat. 

"  At  last  !  "  she  said,  reproachfully.  "  Evi- 
dently a  lantern  is  a  poor  door-bell." 

"  What  is  it  ? "  Gavin  asked,  in  suppressed 
excitement,  for  the  least  he  expected  to  hear  was 
that  she  was  again  being  pursued  for  her  share  in 
the  riot.  The  tremor  in  his  voice  surprised  her 
into  silence,  and  he  thought  she  faltered  because 
what  she  had  to  tell  him  was  so  woful.  So,  in 
the  darkness  of  the  summer-seat,  he  kissed  her, 
and  she  might  have  known  that  with  that  kiss 
the  little  minister  was  hers  for  ever. 

Now  Babbie  had  been  kissed  before,  but  never 
thus,  and  she  turned  from  Gavin,  and  would  have 
liked  to  be  alone,  for  she  had  begun  to  know 
what  love  was,  and  the  flash  that  revealed  it  to 
her  laid  bare  her  own  shame,  so  that  her  impulse 
was  to  hide  herself  from  her  lover.  But  of  all 
this  Gavin  was  unconscious,  and  he  repeated  his 
question.  The  lantern  was  swaying  in  her  hand, 
and  when  she  turned  fearfully  to  him  its  light 
fell  on  his  face,  and  she  saw  how  alarmed  he  was. 

"  I  am  going  away  back  to  Nanny's,"  she  said, 
suddenly,  and  rose  cowed,  but  he  took  her  hand 
and  held  her. 

"  Babbie,"  he  said,  huskily,  "  tell  me  what  has 
happened  to  bring  you  here  at  this  hour." 


238  The   Little   Minister 

She  sought  to  pull  her  hand  from  him,  but 
could  not, 

"  How  you  are  trembling !  "  he  whispered. 
"  Babbie,"  he  cried,  "  something  terrible  has  hap- 
pened to  you,  but  do  not  fear.  Tell  me  what 
it  is,  and  then,  —  then  I  will  take  you  to  my 
mother  :  yes,  I   will  take  you  now." 

The  Egyptian  would  have  given  all  she  had  in 
the  world  to  be  able  to  fly  from  him  then,  that 
he  might  never  know  her  as  she  was,  but  it 
could  not  be,  and  so  she  spoke  out  remorselessly. 
If  her  voice  had  become  hard,  it  was  a  new-born 
scorn  of  herself  that  made  it  so. 

"  You  are  needlessly  alarmed,"  she  said ;  "  I 
am  not  at  all  the  kind  of  person  who  deserves 
sympathy  or  expects  it.  There  is  nothing  wrong. 
I  am  staying  with  Nanny  over  night,  and  only 
came  to  Thrums  to  amuse  myself  I  chased  your 
policeman  down  the  Roods  with  my  lantern,  and 
then  came  here  to  amuse  myself  with  you.  That 
is  all." 

"  It  was  nothing  but  a  love  of  mischief  that 
brought  you  here  ?  "  Gavin  asked,  sternly,  after 
an  unpleasant  pause. 

"  Nothing,"  the  Egyptian  answered,  recklessly. 

"  I  could  not  have  believed  this  of  you,"  the 
minister  said  ;  "  I  am  ashamed  of  you." 

"  I  thought,"  Babbie  retorted,  trying  to  speak 
lightly  until  she  could  get  away  from  him, 
"  that  you  would  be  glad  to  see  me.  Your 
last  words  in  Caddam  seemed  to  justify  that 
idea." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  see  you,"  he  answered, 
reproachfully. 


Lovers 


^39 


"Then  I  will  go  away  at  once,"  she  said, 
stepping  out  of  the  summer-seat. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  you  must  go  at  once." 

"  Then  I  won't,"  she  said,  turning  back 
defiantly.  "  I  know  what  you  are  to  say  :  that 
the  Thrums  people  would  be  shocked  if  they 
knew  I  was  here ;  as  if  I  cared  what  the  Thrums 
people  think  of  me." 

"  I  care  what  they  think  of  you,"  Gavin  said, 
as  if  that  were  decisive,  "and  I  tell  you  I  will  not 
allow  you  to  repeat  this  freak." 

"  You  '  will  not  allow  me,'  "  echoed  Babbie, 
almost  enjoying  herself,  despite  her  sudden  loss 
of  self-respect. 

"  I  will  not,"  Gavin  said,  resolutely.  "  Hence- 
forth you  must  do  as  I  think  fit." 

"  Since  when  have  you  taken  command  of 
me  ^  "  demanded  Babbie. 

"  Since  a  minute  ago,"  Gavin  replied,  "  when 
you  let  me  kiss  you." 

"  Let  you  !  "  exclaimed  Babbie,  now  justly 
incensed.  "  You  did  it  yourself.  I  was  very 
angry." 

"  No,  you  were  not." 

"  I  am  not  allowed  to  say  that  even  ?  "  asked 
the  Egyptian.  "  Tell  me  something  I  may  say, 
then,  and  I  will  repeat  it  after  you." 

"  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,"  Gavin  told 
her,  after  a  moment's  reflection  ;  "  yes,  and  there 
is  something  I  should  like  to  hear  you  repeat 
after  me,  but  not   to-night." 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  what  it  is,"  Babble  said, 
quickly,  but  she  knew  what  it  was,  and  even  then, 
despite  the   new  pain   at   her   heart,   her   bosom 


240  The   Little  Minister 

swelled  with  pride  because  this  man  still  loved 
her.  Now  she  wanted  to  run  away  with  his  love 
for  her  before  he  could  take  it  from  her,  and  then 
realising  that  this  parting  must  be  for  ever,  a  great 
desire  filled  her  to  hear  him  put  that  kiss  into 
words,  and  she   said,  faltering : 

"  You  can  tell  me  what  it  is  if  you  like." 

"  Not  to-night,"  said  Gavin. 

"  To-night,  if  at  all,"  the  gypsy  almost  en- 
treated. 

"  To-morrow,  at  Nanny's,"  answered  Gavin, 
decisively ;  and  this  time  he  remembered  without 
dismay  that  the  morrow  was  the  Sabbath. 

In  the  fairy  tale  the  beast  suddenly  drops  his 
skin  and  is  a  prince,  and  I  believe  it  seemed  to 
Babbie  that  some  such  change  had  come  over  this 
man,  her  plaything. 

"  Your  lantern  is  shining  on  my  mother's 
window,"  were  the  words  that  woke  her  from 
this  discovery,  and  then  she  found  herself  yield- 
ing the  lantern  to  him.  She  became  conscious 
vaguely  that  a  corresponding  change  was  taking 
place  in  herself 

"  You  spoke  of  taking  me  to  your  mother," 
she  said,  bitterly. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  at  once,  "  to-morrow ;  " 
but  she  shook  her  head,  knowing  that  to-morrow 
he  would  be  wiser. 

"  Give  me  the  lantern,"  she  said,  in  a  low 
voice,  "  I   am  going   back  to   Nanny's   now." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  we  must  set  out  now,  but  I 
can  carry  the  lantern." 

"  You  are  not  coming  with  me ! "  she  exclaimed, 
shaking  herself  free  of  his  hand. 


Lovers  241 

"  I  am  coming,"  he  replied,  calmly,  though  he 
was  not  calm.     "  Take  my  arm.  Babbie." 

She  made  a  last  effort  to  free  herself  from 
bondage,  crying  passionately,  "  I  will  not  let  you 
come." 

"When  I  say  I  am  coming,"  Gavin  answered 
between  his  teeth,  "  I  mean  that  I  am  coming,  and 
so  let  that  be  an  end  of  this  folly.     Take  my  arm." 

"  I  think  I  hate  you,"  she  said,  retreating  from 
him. 

"  Take  my  arm,"  he  repeated,  and,  though  her 
breast  was  rising  rebelliously,  she  did  as  he  ordered, 
and  so  he  escorted  her  from  the  garden.  At  the 
foot  of  the  field  she  stopped,  and  thought  to 
frighten  him  by  saying,  "  What  would  the  people 
say  if  they  saw  you  with  me  now  ?  " 

"  It  does  not  much  matter  what  they  would 
say,"  he  answered,  still  keeping  his  teeth  together 
as  if  doubtful  of  their  courage.  "  As  for  what 
they  would  do,  that  is  certain ;  they  would  put 
me  out  of  my  church." 

"  And  it  is  dear  to  you  ?  " 

"  Dearer  than  life." 

"  You  told  me  long  ago  that  your  mother's 
heart  would  break  if —  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  it  would." 

They  had  begun  to  climb  the  fields,  but  she 
stopped  him  with  a  jerk. 

"  Go  back,  Mr.  Dishart,"  she  implored,  clutch- 
ing his  arm  with  both  hands.  "You  make  me 
very  unhappy  for  no  purpose.  Oh,  why  should 
you  risk  so  much  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  have  you  wandering  here  alone  at 
midnight,"  Gavin  answered,  gently. 


242  The  Little  Minister 

"  That  is  nothing  to  me,"  she  said,  eagerly, 
but  no  longer  resenting  his  air  of  proprietorship. 

"You  will  never  do  it  again  if  I  can  prevent 
it." 

"  But  you  cannot,"  she  said,  sadly.  "  Oh,  yes, 
you  can,  Mr.  Dishart.  If  you  will  turn  back 
now  I  shall  promise  never  to  do  anything  again 
without  first  asking  myself  whether  it  would 
seem  right  to  you.  I  know  I  acted  very  wrongly 
to-night." 

"  Only  thoughtlessly,"  he  said. 

"  Then  have  pity  on  me,"  she  besought  him, 
"  and  go  back.  If  I  have  only  been  thoughtless, 
how  can  you  punish  me  thus  ?  Mr.  Dishart,"  she 
entreated,  her  voice  breaking,  "  if  you  were  to 
suffer  for  this  folly  of  mine,  do  you  think  I  could 
live  ?  " 

"  We  are  in  God's  hands,  dear,"  he  answered, 
firmly,  and  he  again  drew  her  arm  to  him.  So 
they  climbed  the  first  field,  and  were  almost  at 
the  hill  before  either  spoke  again. 

"  Stop,"  Babbie  whispered,  crouching  as  she 
spoke;  "  I  see  some  one  crossing  the  hill." 

"  I  have  seen  him  for  some  time,"  Gavin  an- 
swered, quietly  ;  "  but  I  am  doing  no  wrong,  and 
I  will  not  hide." 

The  Egyptian  had  to  walk  on  with  him,  and  I 
suppose  she  did  not  think  the  less  of  him  for 
that.     Yet  she  said,  warningly  : 

"  If  he  sees  you,  all  Thrums  will  be  in  an 
uproar  before  morning." 

"  I  cannot  help  that,"  Gavin  replied.  "  It  is 
the  will  of  God." 

"  To  ruin  you  for  my  sins  ^  " 


Lovers  243 

"  If  He  thinks  fit." 

The  figure  drew  nearer,  and  with  every  step 
Babbie's  distress  doubled. 

"  We  are  walking  straight  to  him,"  she  whis- 
pered. "  I  implore  you  to  wait  here  until  he 
passes,  if  not  for  your  own  sake,  for  your 
mother's." 

At  that  he  wavered,  and  she  heard  his  teeth 
sHding  against  each  other,  as  if  he  could  no 
longer  clench  them. 

"  But,  no,"  he  said,  moving  on  again,  "  I  will 
not  be  a  skulker  from  any  man.  If  it  be  God's 
wish  that  I  should  suffer  for  this,  I  must  suffer." 

"  Oh,  why,"  cried  Babbie,  beating  her  hands 
together  in  grief,  "  should  you  suffer  for  me  ?  " 

"  You  are  mine,"  Gavin  answered.  Babbie 
gasped.  "  And  if  you  act  foolishly,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  it  is  right  that  I  should  bear  the  brunt 
of  it.  No,  I  will  not  let  you  go  on  alone ;  you 
are  not  fit  to  be  alone.  You  need  some  one  to 
watch  over  you,  and  care  for  you,  and  love  you, 
and,  if  need  be,  to  suffer  with  you." 

"  Turn  back,  dear,  before  he  sees  us." 

"  He  has  seen  us." 

Yes,  I  had  seen  them,  for  the  figure  on  the 
hill  was  no  other  than  the  dominie  of  Glen 
Quharity.  The  park  gate  clicked  as  it  swung  to, 
and  I  looked  up  and  saw  Gavin  and  the  Egyp- 
tian. My  eyes  should  have  found  them  sooner, 
but  it  was  to  gaze  upon  Margaret's  home,  while 
no  one  saw  me,  that  I  had  trudged  into  Thrums 
so  late,  and  by  that  time,  I  suppose,  my  eyes 
were  of  little  service  for  seeing  through.  Yet, 
when  I  knew  that  of  these  two  people  suddenly 


244  The  Little  Minister 

beside  me  on  the  hill,  one  was  the  little  minister, 
and  the  other  a  strange  woman,  I  fell  back  from 
their  side  with  dread  before  I  could  step  forward 
and  cry  "  Gavin  !  " 

"  I  am  Mr.  Dishart,"  he  answered,  with  a 
composure  that  would  not  have  served  him  for 
another  sentence.  He  was  more  excited  than 
I,  for  the  "  Gavin  "  fell  harmlessly  on  him,  while  I 
had  no  sooner  uttered  it  than  there  rushed 
through  me  the  shame  of  being  false  to  Mar- 
garet. It  was  the  only  time  in  my  life  that  I 
forgot  her  in  him,  though  he  has  ever  stood  next 
to  her  in  my  regard. 

I  looked  from  Gavin  to  the  gypsy  woman, 
and  again  from  her  to  him,  and  she  began  to  tell 
a  lie  in  his  interest.  But  she  got  no  further  than 
"  I  met  Mr.  Dishart  accid —  "  when  she  stopped, 
ashamed.  It  was  reverence  for  Gavin  that 
checked  the  lie.  Not  every  man  has  had  such  a 
compliment  paid  him. 

"  It  is  natural,"  Gavin  said,  slowly,  "  that  you, 
sir,  should  wonder  why  I  am  here  with  this 
woman  at  such  an  hour,  and  you  may  know  me 
so  little  as  to  think  ill  of  me  for  it." 

I  did  not  answer,  and  he  misunderstood  my 
silence. 

"  No,"  he  continued,  in  a  harder  voice,  as  if  I 
had  asked  him  a  question,  "  I  will  explain  noth- 
ing to  you.  You  are  not  my  judge.  If  you 
would  do  me  harm,  sir,  you  have  it  in  your 
power." 

It  was  with  these  cruel  words  that  Gavin  ad- 
dressed me.  He  did  not  know  how  cruel  they 
were.     The  Egyptian,  I   think,  must  have  seen 


Lovers  245 

that  his  suspicions  hurt  me,  for  she  said,  softly, 
with  a  look  of  appeal  in  her  eyes  : 

"  You  are  the  schoolmaster  in  Glen  Quharity  ? 
Then  you  will  perhaps  save  Mr.  Dishart  the 
trouble  of  coming  farther,  by  showing  me  the 
way  to  old  Nanny  Webster's  house  at  Windy- 
ghoul  ?  " 

"  I  have  to  pass  the  house,  at  any  rate,"  I 
answered,  eagerly,  and  she  came  quickly  to  my 
side. 

I  knew,  though  in  the  darkness  I  could  see 
but  vaguely,  that  Gavin  was  holding  his  head 
high,  and  waiting  for  me  to  say  my  worst.  I 
had  not  told  him  that  I  dared  think  no  evil  of 
him,  and  he  still  suspected  me.  Now  I  would 
not  trust  myself  to  speak,  lest  I  should  betray 
Margaret,  and  yet  I  wanted  him  to  know  that 
base  doubts  about  him  could  never  find  a  shelter 
in  me.  I  am  a  timid  man,  who  long  ago  lost  the 
glory  of  my  life  by  it,  and  I  was  again  timid 
when  I  sought  to  let  Gavin  see  that  my  faith  in 
him  was  unshaken.  I  lifted  my  bonnet  to  the 
gypsy,  and  asked  her  to  take  my  arm.  It  was 
done  clumsily,  I  cannot  doubt,  but  he  read  my 
meaning,  and  held  out  his  hand  to  me.  I  had 
not  touched  it  since  he  was  three  years  old,  and  I 
trembled  too  much  to  give  it  the  grasp  I  owed  it. 
He  and  I  parted  without  a  word,  but  to  the 
Egyptian  he  said,  "  To-morrow,  dear,  I  will  see 
you  at  Nanny's,"  and  he  was  to  kiss  her,  but  I 
pulled  her  a  step  farther  from  him,  and  she  put 
her  hands  over  her  face,  crying,  "  No,  no  !  " 

If  I  asked  her  some  questions  between  the  hill 
and  Windyghoul  you  must   not  blame  me,  for 


246  The  Little  Minister 

this  was  my  affair  as  well  as  theirs.  She  did  not 
answer  me ;  I  know  now  that  she  did  not  hear 
me.  But  at  the  mud  house  she  looked  abruptly 
into  my  face,  and  said : 

"  You  love  him,  too  !  " 

I  trudged  to  the  schoolhouse  with  these  words 
for  company,  and  it  was  less  her  discovery  than 
her  confession  that  tortured  me.  How  much  I 
slept  that  night  you  may  guess. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

CONTAINS     A     BIRTH,    WHICH     IS     SUFFICIENT     FOR 
ONE    CHAPTER 

"  ^  I  ^HE  kirk  bell  will  soon  be  ringing," 
J_  Nanny  said  on  the  following  morning,  as 
she  placed  herself  carefully  on  a  stool,  one  hand 
holding  her  Bible  and  the  other  wandering  com- 
placently over  her  aged  merino  gown.  "  Ay, 
lassie,  though  you're  only  an  Egyptian  I  would 
hae  ta'en  you  wi'  me  to  hear  Mr.  Duthie,  but  it's 
speiring  ower  muckle  o'  a  woman  to  expect  her 
to  gang  to  the  kirk  in  her  ilka  day  claethes." 

The  Babbie  of  yesterday  would  have  laughed 
at  this,  but  the  new  Babbie  sighed. 

"  I  wonder  you  don't  go  to  Mr.  Dishart's 
church  now,  Nanny,"  she  said,  gently.  "  I  am 
sure  you  prefer  him." 

"Babbie,  Babbie,"  exclaimed  Nanny,  with  spirit, 
"  may  I  never  be  so  far  left  to  mysel'  as  to  change 
my  kirk  just  because  I  like  another  minister 
better  !  It's  easy  seen,  lassie,  that  you  ken  little 
o'  religious  questions." 

"  Very  little,"  Babbie  admitted,  sadly. 

"  But  dinna  be  so  waeful  about  it,"  the  old 
woman  continued,  kindly,  "  for  that's  no  nane 
like  you.  Ay,  and  if  you  see  muckle  mair  ^o' 
Mr.  Dishart,  he'll  soon  cure  your  ignorance." 

247 


248  The  Little  Minister 

"  I  shall  not  see  much  more  of  him,"  Babbie 
answered,  with  averted  head. 

"  The  like  o'  you  couldna  expect  it,"  Nanny 
said,  simply,  whereupon  Babbie  went  to  the  win- 
dow. "  I  had  better  be  stepping,"  Nanny  said, 
rising,  "  for  I  am  aye  late  unless  I'm  on  the  hill 
by  the  time  the  bell  begins.  Ay,  Babbie,  I'm 
doubting  my  merino's  no  sair  in  the  fashion  ?  " 

She  looked  down  at  her  dress  half  despond- 
ently, and  yet  with  some  pride. 

"  It  was  fowerpence  the  yard,  and  no  less,"  she 
went  on,  fondling  the  worn  merino,  "  when  we 
bocht  it  at  Sam'l  Curr's.  Ay,  but  it  has  been 
turned  sax  times  since  syne." 

She  sighed,  and  Babbie  came  to  her  and  put 
her  arms  round  her,  saying,  "  Nanny,  you  are  a 
dear." 

"  I'm  a  gey  auld-farrant-looking  dear,  I  doubt," 
said  Nanny,  ruefully. 

"  Now,  Nanny,"  rejoined  Babbie,  "  you  are 
just  wanting  me  to  flatter  you.  You  know  the 
merino  looks  very  nice." 

"  It's  a  guid  merino  yet,"  admitted  the  old 
woman,  "  but,  oh.  Babbie,  what  does  the  mate- 
rial matter  if  the  cut  isna  fashionable  ?  It's  fine, 
isn't  it,  to  be  in  the  fashion  ?  " 

She  spoke  so  wistfully  that,  instead  of  smiling, 
Babbie  kissed  her. 

"  I  am  afraid  to  lay  hand  on  the  merino, 
Nanny,  but  give  me  off  your  bonnet  and  I'll 
make  it  ten  years  younger  in  as  many  minutes." 

"  Could  you  ? "  asked  Nanny,  eagerly,  un- 
loosening her  bonnet-strings.  "  Mercy  on  me  !  " 
she  had  to  add  ;  "  to  think  about  altering  bonnets 


Contains  a  Birth  2,49 

on  the  Sabbath  day  !  Lassie,  how  could  you 
propose  sic  a  thing  ?  " 

"  Forgive  me,  Nanny,"  Babbie  replied,  so 
meekly  that  the  old  woman  looked  at  her  curi- 
ously. 

"  I  dinna  understand  what  has  come  ower  you," 
she  said.  "  There's  an  unca  difference  in  you 
since  last  nicht.  I  used  to  think  you  were  mair 
like  a  bird  than  a  lassie,  but  you've  lost  a'  your 
daft  capers  o'  singing  and  lauching,  and  I  take 
ill  wi't.  Twa  or  three  times  I've  catched  you 
greeting.      Babbie,  what  has  come  ower  you  ^  " 

"  Nothing,  Nanny.      I  think  I  hear  the  bell." 

Down  in  Thrums  two  kirk  officers  had  let 
their  bells  loose,  waking  echoes  in  Windyghoul 
as  one  dog  in  country  parts  sets  all  the  others 
barking,  but  Nanny  did  not  hurry  oif  to  church. 
Such  a  surprising  notion  had  filled  her  head  sud- 
denly that  she  even  forgot  to  hold  her  dress  ofF 
the  floor. 

"  Babbie,"  she  cried,  in  consternation,  "  dinna 
tell  me  you've  gotten  ower  fond  o'  Mr.  Dishart." 

"  The  like  of  me,  Nanny  !  "  the  gypsy  an- 
swered, with  affected  raillery,  but  there  was  a 
tear  in  her  eye. 

"It  would  be  a  wild,  presumptious  thing," 
Nanny  said,  "and  him  a  grand  minister,  but  —  " 

Babbie  tried  to  look  her  in  the  face,  but  failed, 
and  then  all  at  once  there  came  back  to  Nanny 
the  days  when  she  and  her  lover  wandered  the 
hill  together. 

"Ah,  my  dawtie,"  she  cried,  so  tenderly, 
"what  does  it  matter  wha  he  is  when  you  canna 
help  it ! " 


2^0  The  Little  Minister 

Two  frail  arms  went  round  the  Egyptian,  and 
Babbie  rested  her  head  on  the  old  woman's 
breast.  But  do  you  think  it  could  have  happened 
had  not  Nanny  loved  a  weaver  two  score  years 
before  ? 

And  now  Nanny  has  set  off  for  church,  and 
Babbie  is  alone  in  the  mud  house.  Some  will 
pity  her  not  at  all,  this  girl  who  was  a  dozen 
women  in  the  hour,  and  all  made  of  impulses 
that  would  scarce  stand  still  to  be  photographed. 
To  attempt  to  picture  her  at  any  time  until  now 
would  have  been  like  chasing  a  spirit  that  changes 
to  something  else  as  your  arms  clasp  it ;  yet  she 
has  always  seemed  a  pathetic  little  figure  to  me. 
If  I  understand  Babbie  at  all,  it  is,  I  think, 
because  I  loved  Margaret,  the  only  woman  I 
have  ever  known  well,  and  one  whose  nature  was 
not,  like  the  Egyptian's,  complex,  but  most 
simple,  as  if  God  had  told  her  only  to  be  good. 
Throughout  my  life  since  she  came  into  it  she 
has  been  to  me  a  glass  in  which  many  things  are 
revealed  that  I  could  not  have  learned  save 
through  her,  and  something  of  all  womankind, 
even  of  bewildering  Babbie,  I  seem  to  know 
because  I  knew  Margaret. 

No  woman  is  so  bad  but  we  may  rejoice  when 
her  heart  thrills  to  love,  for  then  God  has  her 
by  the  hand.  There  is  no  love  but  this.  She 
may  dream  of  what  love  is,  but  it  is  only  of  a 
sudden  that  she  knows.  Babbie,  who  was  without 
a  guide  from  her  baby  days,  had  dreamed  but  little 
of  it,  hearing  its  name  given  to  another  thing. 
She  had  been  born  wild  and  known  no  home ; 
no  one  had  touched  her   heart  except  to  strike 


Contains  a  Birth  2^1 

it ;  she  had  been  educated,  but  never  tamed ; 
her  hfe  had  been  thrown  strangely  among  those 
who  were  great  in  the  world's  possessions,  but 
she  was  not  of  them.  Her  soul  was  in  such 
darkness  that  she  had  never  seen  it ;  she  would 
have  danced  away  cynically  from  the  belief  that 
there  is  such  a  thing,  and  now  all  at  once  she  had 
passed  from  disbelief  to  knowledge.  Is  not  love 
God's  doing  ?  To  Gavin  He  had  given  some- 
thing of  Himself,  and  the  moment  she  saw  it  the 
flash  lit  her  own  soul. 

It  was  but  little  of  his  Master  that  was  in 
Gavin,  but  far  smaller  things  have  changed  the 
current  of  human  lives ;  the  spider's  thread  that 
strikes  our  brow  on  a  country  road  may  do  that. 
Yet  this  I  will  say,  though  I  have  no  wish  to 
cast  the  little  minister  on  my  pages  larger  than 
he  was,  that  he  had  some  heroic  hours  in  Thrums, 
of  which  one  was  when  Babbie  learned  to  love 
him.  Until  the  moment  when  he  kissed  her  she 
had  only  conceived  him  a  quaint  fellow  whose 
life  was  a  string  of  Sundays,  but  behold  what  she 
saw  in  him  now.  Evidently  to  his  noble  mind 
her  mystery  was  only  some  misfortune,  not  of  her 
making,  and  his  was  to  be  the  part  of  leading 
her  away  from  it  into  the  happiness  of  the  open 
life.  He  did  not  doubt  her,  for  he  loved,  and 
to  doubt  is  to  dip  love  in  the  mire.  She  had 
been  given  to  him  by  God,  and  he  was  so  rich  in 
her  possession  that  the  responsibility  attached  to 
the  gift  was  not  grievous.  She  was  his,  and  no 
mortal  man  could  part  them.  Those  who  looked 
askance  at  her  were  looking  askance  at  him  ;  in 
so  far  as  she  was  wayward  and  wild,  he  was  those 


252 


The   Little   Minister 


things ;  so  long  as  she  remained  strange  to  relig- 
ion, the  blame  lay  on  him. 

All  this  Babbie  read  in  the  Gavin  of  the  past 
night,  and  to  her  it  was  the  book  of  love.  What 
things  she  had  known,  said,  and  done  in  that  holy 
name  !  How  shamefully  have  we  all  besmirched 
it !  She  had  only  known  it  as  the  most  selfish  of 
the  passions,  a  brittle  image  that  men  consulted 
because  it  could  only  answer  in  the  words  they 
gave  it  to  say.  But  here  was  a  man  to  whom 
love  was  something  better  than  his  own  desires 
leering  on  a  pedestal.  Such  love  as  Babbie  had 
seen  hitherto  made  strong  men  weak,  but  this  was 
a  love  that  made  a  weak  man  strong.  All  her 
life,  strength  had  been  her  idol,  and  the  weakness 
that  bent  to  her  cajolery  her  scorn.  But  only 
now  was  it  revealed  to  her  that  strength,  instead 
of  being  the  lusty  child  of  passions,  grows  by 
grappling  with  and  throwing  them. 

So  Babbie  loved  the  little  minister  for  the  best 
that  she  had  ever  seen  in  man.  I  shall  be  told 
that  she  thought  far  more  of  him  than  he  deserved, 
forgetting  the  mean  in  the  worthy  ;  but  who  that 
has  had  a  glimpse  of  heaven  will  care  to  let  his 
mind  dwell  henceforth  on  earth  ?  Love,  it  is 
said,  is  blind,  but  love  is  not  blind.  It  is  an 
extra  eye,  which  shows  us  what  is  most  worthy 
of  regard.  To  see  the  best  is  to  see  most 
clearly,  and  it  is  the  lover's  privilege. 

Down  in  the  Auld  Licht  kirk  that  forenoon, 
Gavin  preached  a  sermon  in  praise  of  Woman, 
and  up  in  the  mud  house  In  Windyghoul  Babbie 
sat  alone.  But  it  was  the  Sabbath  day  to  her : 
the  first  Sabbath  in  her  life.     Her  discovery  had 


Contains  a   Birth  253 

frozen  her  mind  for  a  time,  so  that  she  could  only 
stare  at  it  with  eyes  that  would  not  shut ;  but  that 
had  been  in  the  night.  Already  her  love  seemed 
a  thing  of  years,  for  it  was  as  old  as  herself,  as  old 
as  the  new  Babbie.  It  was  such  a  dear  delight 
that  she  clasped  it  to  her,  and  exulted  over  it 
because  it  was  hers,  and  then  she  cried  over 
it  because  she  must  give  it  up. 

For  Babbie  must  only  look  at  this  love  and 
then  turn  from  it.  My  heart  aches  for  the  little 
Egyptian,  but  the  Promised  Land  would  have  re- 
mained invisible  to  her  had  she  not  realised  that 
it  was  only  for  others.  That  was  the  condition 
of  her  seeing. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

THE     NEW    WORLD,    AND     THE    WOMAN    WHO     MAY 
NOT    DWELL    THEREIN. 

UP  here  in  the  glen  schoolhouse,  after  my 
pupils  have  straggled  home,  there  comes 
to  me  at  times,  and  so  sudden  that  it  may  be 
while  I  am  infusing  my  tea,  a  hot  desire  to  write 
great  books.  Perhaps  an  hour  afterwards  I  rise, 
beaten,  from  my  desk,  flinging  all  I  have  written 
into  the  fire  (yet  rescuing  some  of  it  on  second 
thought),  and  curse  myself  as  an  ingle-nook  man, 
for  I  see  that  one  can  only  paint  what  he  himself 
has  felt,  and  in  my  passion  I  wish  to  have  all  the 
vices,  even  to  being  an  impious  man,  that  I  may 
describe  them  better.  For  this  may  I  be  par- 
doned. It  comes  to  nothing  in  the  end,  save 
that  my  tea  is  brackish. 

Yet  though  my  solitary  life  in  the  glen  is 
cheating  me  of  many  experiences,  more  helpful 
to  a  writer  than  to  a  Christian,  it  has  not  been  so 
tame  but  that  I  can  understand  why  Babbie  cried 
when  she  went  into  Nanny's  garden  and  saw  the 
new  world.  Let  no  one  who  loves  be  called 
altogether  unhappy.  Even  love  unreturned  has 
its  rainbow,  and  Babbie  knew  that  Gavin  loved 
her.  Yet  she  stood  in  woe  among  the  stiff  berry 
bushes,  as  one  who  stretches  forth  her  hands  to 

254 


The  New  World  255 

Love  and  sees  him  looking  for  her,  and  knows 
she  must  shrink  from  the  arms  she  would  lie  in, 
and  only  call  to  him  in  a  voice  he  cannot  hear. 
This  is  not  a  love  that  is  always  bitter.  It  grows 
sweet  with  age.  But  could  that  dry  the  tears  of 
the  little  Egyptian,  who  had  only  been  a  woman 
for  a  day  ? 

Much  was  still  dark  to  her.  Of  one  obstacle 
that  must  keep  her  and  Gavin  ever  apart  she 
knew,  and  he  did  not ;  but  had  it  been  removed 
she  would  have  given  herself  to  him  humbly,  not 
in  her  own  longing,  but  because  he  wanted  her. 
"  Behold  what  I  am,"  she  could  have  said  to  him 
then,  and  left  the  rest  to  him,  believing  that  her 
unworthiness  w^ould  not  drag  him  down,  it  would 
lose  itself  so  readily  in  his  strength.  That 
Thrums  could  rise  against  such  a  man  if  he 
defied  it,  she  did  not  believe ;  but  she  was  to 
learn  the  truth  presently  from  a  child. 

To  most  of  us,  I  suppose,  has  come  some 
shock  that  was  to  make  us  different  men  from 
that  hour,  and  vet,  how  many  days  elapsed  before 
something  of  the  man  we  had  been  leapt  up  in 
us  ?  Babbie  thought  she  had  buried  her  old 
impulsiveness,  and  then  remembering  that  from 
the  top  of  the  field  she  might  see  Gavin  returning 
from  church,  she  hastened  to  the  hill  to  look 
upon  him  from  a  distance.  Before  she  reached 
the  gate  where  I  had  met  her  and  him,  however, 
she  stopped,  distressed  at  her  selfishness,  and 
asked,  bitterly,  "  Why  am  I  so  different  from 
other  women;  why  should  what  is  so  easy  to 
them  be  so  hard  to  me  ^  " 

"  Gavin,  my  beloved  !  "  the  Egyptian  cried,  in 


256  The  Little  Minister 

her  agony,  and  the  wind  caught  her  words  and 
flung  them  in  the  air,  making  sport  of  her. 

She  wandered  westward  over  the  bleak  hill, 
and  by  and  by  came  to  a  great  slab  called  the 
Standing  Stone,  on  which  children  often  sit  and 
muse  until  they  see  gay  ladies  riding  by  on 
palfreys  —  a  kind  of  horse  —  and  knights  in 
glittering  armour,  and  goblins,  and  fiery  dragons, 
and  other  wonders  now  extinct,  of  which  bare- 
legged laddies  dream,  as  well  as  boys  in  socks. 
The  Standing  Stone  is  in  the  dyke  that  separates 
the  hill  from  a  fir  wood,  and  it  is  the  fairy-book 
of  Thrums.  If  you  would  be  a  knight  yourself, 
you  must  sit  on  it  and  whisper  to  it  your  desire. 

Babbie  came  to  the  Standing  Stone,  and  there 
was  a  little  boy  astride  it.  His  hair  stood  up 
through  holes  in  his  bonnet,  and  he  was  very 
ragged  and  miserable. 

"  Why  are  you  crying,  little  boy  ? "  Babbie 
asked  him,  gently ;  but  he  did  not  look  up,  and 
the  tongue  was  strange  to  him. 

"  How  are  you  greeting  so  sair  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I'm  no  greeting  very  sair,"  he  answered, 
turning  his  head  from  her  that  a  woman  might 
not  see  his  tears.  "  I'm  no  greeting  so  sair  but 
what  I  grat  sairer  when  my  mither  died." 

"  When  did  she  die  ?  "  Babbie  inquired. 

"  Lang  syne,"  he  answered,  still  with  averted 
face. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Micah  is  my  name.      Rob  Dow's  my  father." 

"  And  have  you  no  brothers  nor  sisters  ^ " 
asked  Babbie,  with  a  fellow  feeling  for  him, 

"  No,  juist  my  father,"  he  said. 


The  New  World  257 

"  You  should  be  the  better  laddie  to  him  then. 
Did  your  mither  no  tell  you  to  be  that  afore  she 
died  ?  " 

"  Ay,"  he  answered,  "  she  telled  me  aye  to  hide 
the  bottle  frae  him  when  I  could  get  haed  o't. 
She  took  me  into  the  bed  to  make  me  promise 
that,  and  syne  she  died." 

"  Does  your  father  drink  ?  " 

"  He  bauds  mair  than  ony  other  man  in 
Thrums,"    Micah  replied,  almost  proudly. 

"  And  he  strikes  you  ?  "  Babbie  asked,  com- 
passionately. 

"  That's  a  lie,"  retorted  the  boy,  fiercely. 
"  Leastwise,  he  doesna  strike  me  except  when 
he's  mortal,  and  syne  I  can  jouk  him." 

"  What  are  you  doing  there  ?  " 

"  I'm  wishing.      It's  a  wishing  stane." 

"  You  are  wishing  your  father  wouldna  drink." 

"No,  I'm  no,"  answered  Micah.  "There 
was  a  lang  time  he  didna  drink,  but  the  woman 
has  sent  him  to  it  again.  It's  about  her  I'm 
wishing.     I'm  wishing  she  was  in  hell." 

"  What  woman  is  it  ?  "  asked  Babbie,  shudder- 
ing. 

"  I  dinna  ken,"  Micah  said,  "  but  she's  an  ill 
ane." 

"  Did  you  never  see  her  at  your  father's 
house  ?" 

"  Na ;  if  he  could  get  grip  o'  her  he  would 
break  her  ower  his  knee.  I  hearken  to  him 
saying  that,  when  he's  wild.  He  says  she  should 
be  burned  for  a  witch." 

"  But  if  he  hates  her,"  asked  Babbie,  "  how  can 
she  have  sic  power  ower  him  ?  " 


258  The   Little   Minister 

"  It's  no  him  that  she  has  haud  o',"  replied 
Micah,  still  looking  away  from  her. 

"  Wha  is  it,  then  ?  " 

"  It's  Mr.  Dishart." 

Babbie  was  struck  as  if  by  an  arrow  from  the 
wood.  It  was  so  unexpected  that  she  gave  a  cry, 
and  then  for  the  first  time  Micah  looked  at  her. 

"  How  should  that  send  your  father  to  the 
drink  ?  "  she  asked,  with  an  effort. 

"  Because  my  father's  michty  fond  o'  him," 
answered  Micah,  staring  strangely  at  her;  "and 
when  the  folk  ken  about  the  woman,  they'll 
stane  the  minister  out  o'  Thrums." 

The  wood  faded  for  a  moment  from  the  Egyp- 
tian's sight.  When  it  came  back,  the  boy  had 
slid  off  the  Standing  Stone,  and  was  stealing  away. 

"  Why  do  you  run  frae  me  ^  "  Babbie  asked, 
pathetically. 

"  I'm  fleid  at  you,"  he  gasped,  coming  to 
a  standstill  at  a  safe  distance ;  "  you're  the 
woman  !  " 

Babbie  cowered  before  her  little  judge,  and  he 
drew  nearer  her  slowly. 

"  What  makes  you  think  that  ?  "  she  said. 

It  was  a  curious  time  for  Babbie's  beauty  to  be 
paid  its  most  princely  compliment. 

"  Because  you're  so  bonny,"  Micah  whispered 
across  the  dyke.  Her  tears  gave  him  courage. 
"You  micht  gang  awa,"  he  entreated.  "  If  you 
kent  what  a  differ  Mr.  Dishart  made  in  my  father 
till  you  came,  you  would  maybe  gang  awa.  When 
he's  roaring  fou  I  have  to  sleep  in  the  wood,  and 
it's  awfu'  cauld.  I'm  doubting  he'll  kill  me, 
woman,  if  you  dinna  gang  awa." 


The   New  World  259 

Poor  Babbie  put  her  hand  to  her  heart,  but 
the  innocent  lad  continued,  mercilessly  : 

"  If  ony  shame  comes  to  the  minister,  his  auld 
mither'll  die.  How  have  you  sic  an  ill-will  at 
the  minister?  " 

Babbie  held  up  her  hands  like  a  supplicant. 

"I'll  gie  you  my  rabbit,"  Micah  said,  "if 
you'll  gang  awa.  I've  juist  the  ane."  She  shook 
her  head,  and,  misunderstanding  her,  he  cried, 
with  his  knuckles  in  his  eye,  "  I'll  gie  you  them 
baith,  though  I'm  michty  sweer  to  part  wi' 
Spotty." 

Then  at  last  Babbie  found  her  voice. 

"  Keep  your  rabbits,  laddie,"  she  said,  "  and 
greet  no  more.      I'm  gaen  awa." 

"  And  you'll  never  come  back  no  more  a'  your 
life  ?  "  pleaded  Micah. 

"  Never  no  more  a'  my  life,"  repeated  Babbie. 

"  And  ye'U  leave  the  minister  alane  for  ever 
and  ever  ?  " 

"  For  ever  and  ever." 

Micah  rubbed  his  face  dry,  and  said,  "  Will 
you  let  me  stand  on  the  Standing  Stane  and 
watch  you  gaen  awa  for  ever  and  ever?" 

At  that  a  sob  broke  from  Babbie's  heart,  and 
looking  at  her  doubtfully,  Micah  said : 

"Maybe  you're  gey  ill  for  what  you've  done?" 

"Ay,"  Babbie  answered,  "  I'm  gey  ill  for  what 
I've  done." 

A  minute  passed,  and  in  her  anguish  she  did 
not  know  that  still  she  was  standing  at  the  dyke. 
Micah's  voice  roused  her  : 

"You  said  you  would  gang  awa,  and  you're  no 
gaen." 


26o  The   Little   Minister 

Then  Babbie  went  away.  The  boy  watched 
her  across  the  hill.  He  climbed  the  Standing 
Stone  and  gazed  after  her  until  she  was  but  a 
coloured  ribbon  among  the  broom.  When  she 
disappeared  into  Windyghoul  he  ran  home  joy- 
fully, and  told  his  father  what  a  good  day's  work 
he  had  done.  Rob  struck  him  for  a  fool  for 
taking  a  gypsy's  word,  and  warned  him  against 
speaking  of  the  woman  in  Thrums. 

But  though  Dow  believed  that  Gavin  con- 
tinued to  meet  the  Egyptian  secretly,  he  was 
wrong.  A  sum  of  money  for  Nanny  was  sent 
to  the  minister,  but  he  could  guess  only  from 
whom  it  came.  In  vain  did  he  search  for  Babbie. 
Some  months  passed  and  he  gave  up  the  search, 
persuaded  that  he  should  see  her  no  more.  He 
went  about  his  duties  with  a  drawn  face  that 
made  many  folk  uneasy  when  it  was  stern,  and 
pained  them  when  it  tried  to  smile.  But  to 
Margaret,  though  the  effort  was  terrible,  he 
was  as  he  had  ever  been,  and  so  no  thought 
of  a  woman  crossed  her  loving  breast. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

BEGINNING    OF    THE    TWENTY-FOUR    HOURS 

I  CAN  tell  Still  how  the  whole  of  the  glen  was 
engaged  about  the  hour  of  noon  on  the  fourth 
of  August  month  ;  a  day  to  be  among  the  last 
forgotten  by  any  of  us,  though  it  began  as  quietly 
as  a  roaring  March.  At  the  Spittal,  between 
which  and  Thrums  this  is  a  half-way  house,  were 
gathered  two  hundred  men  in  kilts,  and  many 
gentry  from  the  neighbouring  glens,  to  celebrate 
the  earl's  marriage,  which  was  to  take  place  on  the 
morrow,  and  thither,  too,  had  gone  many  of  my 
pupils  to  gather  gossip,  at  which  girls  of  six  are 
trustier  hands  than  boys  of  twelve.  Those  of  us, 
however,  who  were  neither  children  nor  of  gentle 
blood,  remained  at  home,  the  farmers  more  taken 
up  with  the  want  of  rain,  now  become  a  calamity, 
than  with  an  old  man's  wedding,  and  their  women- 
folk wringing  their  hands  for  rain  also,  yet  find- 
ing time  to  marvel  at  the  marriage's  taking  place 
at  the  Spittal  instead  of  in  England,  of  which 
the  ignorant  spoke  vaguely  as  an  estate  of  the 
bride's. 

For  my  own  part  I  could  talk  of  the  disastrous 
drought  with  Waster  Lunny  as  I  walked  over  his 
parched  fields,  but  I  had  not  such  cause  as  he  to 
brood  upon  it  by  day  and  night ;  and  the  ins  and 
outs  of  the  earl's  marriage  were  for  discussing  at 

261 


262  The  Little  Minister 

a  tea-table,  where  there  were  women  to  help  one 
to  conclusions,  rather  than  for  the  reflections  of  a 
solitary  dominie,  who  had  seen  neither  bride  nor 
bridegroom.  So  it  must  be  confessed  that  when 
I  might  have  been  regarding  the  sky  moodily,  or 
at  the  Spittal,  where  a  free  table  that  day  invited 
all,  1  was  sitting  in  the  schoolhouse,  heeling  my 
left  boot,  on  which  I  have  always  been  a  little 
hard. 

I  made  small  speed,  not  through  lack  of  craft, 
but  because  one  can  no  more  drive  in  rackets 
properly  than  take  cities  unless  he  gives  his  whole 
mind  to  it ;  and  half  of  mine  was  at  the  Auld 
Licht  manse.  Since  our  meeting  six  months 
earlier  on  the  hill  I  had  not  seen  Gavin,  but  I 
had  heard  much  of  him,  and  of  a  kind  to  trouble 
me. 

"  I  saw  nothing  queer  about  Mr.  Dishart," 
was  Waster  Lunny's  frequent  story,  "  till  I 
hearkened  to  Elspeth  speaking  about  it  to  the 
lasses  (for  I'm  the  last  Elspeth  would  tell  ony- 
thing  to,  though  I'm  her  man),  and  syne  I 
minded  I  had  been  noticing  it  for  months. 
Elspeth  says,"  he  would  go  on,  for  he  could 
no  more  forbear  quoting  his  wife  than  complain- 
ing of  her,  "  that  the  minister'll  listen  to  you 
nowadays  wi'  his  een  glaring  at  you  as  if  he  had  a 
perfectly  passionate  interest  in  what  you  were  tell- 
ing him  (though  it  may  be  only  about  a  hen  wi' 
the  croup),  and  then,  after  all,  he  hasna  heard  a 
sylib.  Ay,  I  listened  to  Elspeth  saying  that, 
when  she  thocht  I  was  at  the  byre,  and  yet,  would 
you  believe  it,  when  I  says  to  her  after  lousing 
time,  '  I've  been  noticing  of  late  that  the  minister 


The  Twenty-four   Hours  263 

loses  what  a  body  tells  him,'  all  she  answers  is 
'  Havers.'     Tod,  but  women's  provoking." 

"  I  allow,"  Birse  said,  "  that  on  the  first  Sabbath 
o'  June  month,  and  again  on  the  third  Sabbath, 
he  poured  out  the  Word  grandly,  but  I've  ta'en 
note  this  curran  Sabbaths  that  if  he's  no  michty 
magnificent  he's  michty  poor.  There's  something 
damming  up  his  mind,  and  when  he  gets  by  it 
he's  a  roaring  water,  but  when  he  doesna  he's  a 
despisable  trickle.  The  folk  thinks  it's  a  woman 
that's  getting  in  his  way,  but  dinna  tell  me  that 
about  sic  a  scholar;  I  tell  you  he  would  gang 
ower  a  toon  o'  women  like  a  loaded  cart  ower 
new-laid  stanes." 

Wearyworld  hobbled  after  me  up  the  Roods 
one  day,  pelting  me  with  remarks,  though  I  was 
doing  my  best  to  get  away  from  him.  "  Even 
Rob  Dow  sees  there's  something  come  ower  the 
minister,"  he  bawled,  "  for  Rob's  fou  ilka  Sab- 
bath now.  Ay,  but  this  I  will  say  for  Mr. 
Dishart,  that  he  aye  gies  me  a  civil  word."  I 
thought  I  had  left  the  policeman  behind  with 
this,  but  next  minute  he  roared,  "And  whatever 
is  the  matter  wi'  him  it  has  made  him  kindlier  to 
me  than  ever."  He  must  have  taken  the  short 
cut  through  Lunan's  close,  for  at  the  top  of  the 
Roods  his  voice  again  made  up  on  me.  "  Dagone 
you,  for  a  cruel  pack  to  put  your  fingers  to  your 
lugs  ilka  time  I  open  my  mouth." 

As  for  Waster  Lunny's  daughter  Easie,  who 
got  her  schooling  free  for  redding  up  the  school- 
house  and  breaking  my  furniture,  she  would  never 
have  been  off  the  gossip  about  the  minister,  for 
she  was  her  mother  in  miniature,  with  a  tongue 


264  The   Little   Minister 

that  ran  like  a  pump  after  the  pans  are  full,  not 
for  use  but  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  spilling. 

On  that  awful  fourth  of  August  I  not  only  had 
all  this  confused  talk  in  my  head,  but  reason  for 
jumping  my  mind  between  it  and  the  Egyptian 
(as  if  to  catch  them  together  unawares),  and  I 
was  like  one  who,  with  the  mechanism  of  a  watch 
jumbled  in  his  hand,  could  set  it  going  if  he  had 
the  art. 

Of  the  gypsy  I  knew  nothing  save  what  I  had 
seen  that  night,  yet  what  more  was  there  to  learn  ? 
I  was  aware  that  she  loved  Gavin  and  that  he  loved 
her.  A  moment  had  shown  it  to  me.  Now  with 
the  Auld  Lichts,  I  have  the  smith's  acquaintance 
with  his  irons,  and  so  I  could  not  believe  that 
they  would  suffer  their  minister  to  marry  a 
vagrant.  Had  it  not  been  for  this  knowledge, 
which  made  me  fearful  for  Margaret,  I  would 
have  done  nothing  to  keep  these  two  young  peo- 
ple apart.  Some  to  whom  I  have  said  this  main- 
tain that  the  Egyptian  turned  my  head  at  our  first 
meeting.  Such  an  argument  is  not  perhaps  worth 
controverting.  I  admit  that  even  now  I  straighten 
under  the  fire  of  a  bright  eye,  as  a  pensioner  may 
salute  when  he  sees  a  young  officer.  In  the 
shooting  season,  should  I  chance  to  be  leaning 
over  my  dyke  while  English  sportsmen  pass  (as 
is  usually  the  case  if  I  have  seen  them  approach- 
ing), I  remember  naught  of  them  save  that  they 
call  me  "  she,"  and  end  their  greetings  with 
"whatever"  (which  Waster  Lunny  takes  to  be  a 
southron  mode  of  speech),  but  their  ladies  dwell 
pleasantly  in  my  memory,  from  their  engaging 
faces  to  the  pretty  crumpled  thing  dangling  on 


The  Twenty-four  Hours  265 

their  arms,  that  is  a  hat  or  a  basket,  I  am  seldom 
sure  which.  The  Egyptian's  beauty,  therefore, 
was  a  gladsome  sight  to  me,  and  none  the  less  so 
that  I  had  come  upon  it  as  unexpectedly  as  some 
men  step  into  a  bog.  Had  she  been  alone  when 
I  met  her  I  cannot  deny  that  I  would  have  been 
content  to  look  on  her  face,  without  caring  what 
was  inside  it ;  but  she  was  with  her  lover,  and 
that  lover  was  Gavin,  and  so  her  face  was  to  me 
as  little  for  admiring  as  this  glen  in  a  thunder- 
storm, when  I  know  that  some  fellow  creature  is 
lost  on  the  hills. 

If,  however,  it  was  no  quick  liking  for  the  gypsy 
that  almost  tempted  me  to  leave  these  two  lovers 
to  each  other,  what  was  it?  It  was  the  warning 
of  my  own  life.  Adam  Dishart  had  torn  my 
arm  from  Margaret's,  and  I  had  not  recovered 
the  wrench  in  eighteen  years.  Rather  than  act 
his  part  between  these  two  I  felt  tempted  to  tell 
them,  "  Deplorable  as  the  result  may  be,  if  you 
who  are  a  minister  marry  this  vagabond,  it  will  be 
still  more  deplorable  if  you  do  not." 

But  there  was  Margaret  to  consider,  and  at 
thought  of  her  I  cursed  the  Egyptian  aloud. 
What  could  I  do  to  keep  Gavin  and  the  woman 
apart?  I  could  tell  him  the  secret  of  his  mother's 
life.  Would  that  be  sufficient  ?  It  would  if  he 
loved  Margaret,  as  I  did  not  doubt.  Pity  for 
her  would  make  him  undergo  any  torture  rather 
than  she  should  suffer  again.  But  to  divulge  our 
old  connection  would  entail  her  discovery  of  me, 
and  I  questioned  if  even  the  saving  of  Gavin  could 
destroy  the  bitterness  of  that. 

I  might  appeal  to  the  Egyptian.     I  might  tell 


266  The   Little   Minister 

her  even  what  I  shuddered  to  tell  him.  She  cared 
for  him,  I  was  sure,  well  enough  to  have  the  cour- 
age to  give  him  up.     But  where  was  I  to  find  her  ? 

Were  she  and  Gavin  meeting  still  ?  Perhaps 
the  change  which  had  come  over  the  little  minis- 
ter meant  that  they  had  parted.  Yet  what  I  had 
heard  him  say  to  her  on  the  hill  warned  me  not 
to  trust  in  any  such  solution  of  the  trouble. 

Boys  play  at  casting  a  humming-top  into  the 
midst  of  others  on  the  ground,  and  if  well  aimed 
it  scatters  them  prettily.  I  seemed  to  be  playing 
such  a  game  with  my  thoughts,  for  each  new  one 
sent  the  others  here  and  there,  and  so  what  could 
I  do  in  the  end  but  fling  my  tops  aside,  and  return 
to  the  heeling  of  my  boot  ? 

I  was  thus  engaged  when  the  sudden  waking  of 
the  glen  into  life  took  me  to  my  window.  There 
is  seldom  silence  up  here,  for  if  the  wind  be  not 
sweeping  the  heather,  the  Ouharity,  that  I  may 
not  have  heard  for  days,  seems  to  have  crept 
nearer  to  the  schoolhouse  in  the  night,  and  if 
both  wind  and  water  be  out  of  earshot,  there  is 
the  crack  of  a  gun,  or  Waster  Lunny's  shepherd 
is  on  a  stone  near  at  hand  whistling,  or  a  lamb  is 
scrambling  through  a  fence,  and  kicking  foolishly 
with  its  hind  legs.  These  sounds  I  am  unaware 
of  until  they  stop,  when  I  look  up.  Such  a  still- 
ness was  broken  now  by  music. 

From  my  window  I  saw  a  string  of  people 
walking  rapidly  down  the  glen,  and  Waster 
Lunny  crossing  his  potato  field  to  meet  them. 
Remembering  that,  though  I  was  in  my  stocking 
soles,  the  ground  was  dry,  I  hastened  to  join  the 
farmer,   for   1    like   to    miss    nothing.      I    saw    a 


The  Twenty-four  Hours  267 

curious  sight.  In  front  of  the  little  procession 
coming  down  the  glen  road,  and  so  much  more 
impressive  than  his  satellites  that  they  may  be 
put  out  of  mind  as  merely  ploughmen  and  the 
like  following  a  show,  was  a  Highlander  that  I 
knew  to  be  Lauchlan  Campbell,  one  of  the  pipers 
engaged  to  lend  music  to  the  earl's  marriage.  He 
had  the  name  of  a  thrawn  man  when  sober,  but 
pretty  at  the  pipes  at  both  times,  and  he  came 
marching  down  the  glen  blowing  gloriously,  as  if 
he  had  the  clan  of  Campbell  at  his  heels.  I  know 
no  man  who  is  so  capable  on  occasion  of  looking 
like  twenty  as  a  Highland  piper,  and  never  have 
I  seen  a  face  in  such  a  blaze  of  passion  as  was 
Lauchlan  Campbell's  that  day.  His  following 
were  keeping  out  of  his  reach,  jumping  back 
every  time  he  turned  round  to  shake  his  fist  in 
the  direction  of  the  Spittal.  While  this  magnifi- 
cent man  was  yet  some  yards  from  us,  I  saw 
Waster  Lunny,  who  had  been  in  the  middle  of 
the  road  to  ask  questions,  fall  back  in  fear,  and 
not  being  a  fighting  man  myself,  I  jumped  the 
dyke.  Lauchlan  gave  me  a  look  that  sent  me 
farther  into  the  field,  and  strutted  past,  shrieking 
defiance  through  his  pipes,  until  I  lost  him  and 
his  followers  in  a  bend  of  the  road. 

"  That's  a  terrifying  spectacle,"  I  heard  Waster 
Lunny  say  when  the  music  had  become  but  a  dis- 
tant squeal.  "  You're  bonny  at  louping  dykes, 
dominie,  when  there  is  a  wild  bull  in  front  o'  you. 
Na,  I  canna  tell  what  has  happened,  but  at  the 
least  Lauchlan  maun  hae  dirked  the  earl.  Thae 
loons  cried  out  to  me  as  they  gaed  by  that  he  has 
been  blawing  awa'  at  that  tune  till  he  canna  halt. 


268  The  Little  Minister 

What  a  wind's  in  the  crittur  !  I'm  thinking  there's 
a  hell  in  ilka  Highlandman." 

"  Take  care,  then,  Waster  Lunny,  that  you 
dinna  licht  it,"  said  an  angry  voice  that  made 
us  jump,  though  it  was  only  Duncan,  the  farmer's 
shepherd,  who  spoke. 

"  I  had  forgotten  you  was  a  Highlandman 
yoursel',  Duncan,"  Waster  Lunny  said,  ner- 
vously ;  but  Elspeth,  who  had  come  to  us  un- 
noticed, ordered  the  shepherd  to  return  to  the 
hillside,  which  he  did  haughtily. 

"  How  did  you  no  lay  haud  on  that  blast  o' 
wind,  Lauchlan  Campbell,"  asked  Elspeth  of  her 
husband,  "  and  speir  at  him  what  had  happened 
at  the  Spittal  ?  A  quarrel  afore  a  marriage  brings 
ill  luck." 

"  I'm  thinking,"  said  the  farmer,  "  that  Rin- 
toul's  making  his  ain  ill  luck  by  marrying  on  a 
young  leddy." 

"  A  man's  never  ower  auld  to  marry,"  said 
Elspeth. 

"  No,  nor  a  woman,"  rejoined  Waster  Lunny, 
"  when  she  gets  the  chance.  But,  Elspeth,  I  be- 
lieve I  can  guess  what  has  fired  that  fearsome 
piper.  Depend  upon  it,  somebody  has  been 
speaking  disrespectful  about  the  crittur's  ances- 
tors. 

"  His  ancestors  !  "  exclaimed  Elspeth,  scorn- 
fully. "  I'm  thinking  mine  could  hae  bocht  them 
at  a  crown  the  dozen." 

"  Hoots,"  said  the  farmer,  "  you're  o'  a  weav- 
ing stock,  and  dinna  understand  about  ancestors. 
Take  a  stick  to  a  Highland  laddie,  and  it's  no 
him  you  hurt,  but  his  ancestors.      Likewise  it'» 


The  Twenty-four   Hours  269 

his  ancestors  that  stanes  you  for  it.  When  Dun- 
can stalked  awa  the  now,  what  think  you  he  saw  ? 
He  saw  a  farmer's  wife  dauring  to  order  about  his 
ancestors  ;  and  if  that's  the  way  wi'  a  shepherd, 
what  will  it  be  wi'  a  piper  that  has  the  kilts  on 
him  a'  day  to  mind  him  o'  his  ancestors  ilka  time 
he  looks  down  ?  " 

Elspeth  retired  to  discuss  the  probable  disturb- 
ance at  the  Spittal  with  her  family,  giving  Waster 
Lunny  the  opportunity  of  saying  to  me  impres- 
sively : 

"  Man,  man,  has  it  never  crossed  you  that  it's 
a  queer  thing  the  like  o'  you  and  me  having  no 
ancestors  ?  Ay,  we  had  them  in  a  manner  o' 
speaking,  no  doubt,  but  they're  as  completely  lost 
sicht  o'  as  a  flagon  lid  that's  fallen  ahint  the 
dresser.  Hech,  sirs,  but  they  would  need  a  gey 
rubbing  to  get  the  rust  ofi^  them  now.  I've  been 
thinking  that  if  I  was  to  get  my  laddies  to  say 
their  grandfather's  name  a  curran  times  ilka  day, 
like  the  Catechism,  and  they  were  to  do  the  same 
wi'  their  bairns,  and  it  was  continued  in  future 
generations,  we  micht  raise  a  fell  field  o'  ancestors 
in  time.  Ay,  but  Elspeth  wouldna  hear  o't. 
Nothing  angers  her  mair  than  to  hear  me  speak 
o'  planting  trees  for  the  benefit  o'  them  that's  to 
be  farmers  here  after  me  ;  and  as  for  ancestors,  she 
would  howk  them  up  as  quick  as  I  could  plant 
them.  Losh,  dominie,  is  that  a  boot  in  your 
hand  ? " 

To  my  mortification  I  saw  that  I  had  run  out 
of  the  schoolhouse  with  the  boot  on  my  hand  as 
if  it  were  a  glove,  and  back  I  went  straightway, 
blaming    myself  for    a    man  wanting  in  dignity. 


270  The  Little   Minister 

It  was  but  a  minor  trouble  this,  however,  even  at 
the  time  ;  and  to  recall  it  later  in  the  day  was  to 
look  back  on  happiness,  for  though  I  did  not 
know  it  yet,  Lauchlan's  playing  raised  the  cur- 
tain on  the  great  act  of  Gavin's  life,  and  the 
twenty-four  hours  had  begun,  to  which  all  I  have 
told  as  yet  is  no  more  than  the  prologue. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

SCENE    AT    THE    SPITTAL 

WITHIN  an  hour  after  I  had  left  him, 
Waster  Lunny  walked  into  the  school- 
house  and  handed  me  his  snuff-mull,  which  I 
declined  politely.  It  was  with  this  ceremony 
that  we   usually    opened  our   conversations. 

"I've  seen  the  post,"  he  said,  "and  he  tells 
me  there  has  been  a  queer  ploy  at  the  Spittal. 
It's  a  wonder  the  marriage  hasna  been  turned 
into  a  burial,  and  all  because  o'  that  Highland 
stirk,   Lauchlan  Campbell." 

Waster  Lunny  was  a  man  who  had  to  retrace 
his  steps  in  telling  a  story  if  he  tried  short  cuts, 
and  so  my  custom  was  to  wait  patiently  while  he 
delved  through  the  ploughed  fields  that  always 
lay   between  him  and  his  destination. 

"As  you  ken,  Rintoul's  so  little  o'  a  Scotch- 
man that  he's  no  muckle  better  than  an  Englisher. 
That  maun  be  the  reason  he  hadna  mair  sense 
than  to  tramp  on  a  Highlandman's  ancestors,  as 
he  tried  to  tramp  on  Lauchlan's  this  day." 

"  If  Lord  Rintoul  insulted  the  piper,"  I  sug- 
gested,giving  the  farmer  a  helping  hand  cautiously, 
"  it  would  be  through  inadvertence.  Rintoul  only 
bought  the  Spittal  a  year  ago,  and  until  then,  I 
daresay,  he  had  seldom  been  on  our  side  of  the 

Border." 

271 


i-ji  The   Little   Minister 

This  was  a  foolish  interruption,  for  it  set 
Waster  Lunny  off  in  a  new  direction. 

"  That's  what  Elspeth  says.  Says  she, '  When 
the  earl  has  grand  estates  in  England,  what  for 
does  he  come  to  a  barren  place  like  the  Spittal  to 
be  married  ?  It's  gey  like,'  she  says,  *  as  if  he 
wanted  the  marriage  to  be  got  by  quietly ;  a 
thing,'  says  she,  '  that  no  woman  can  stand. 
Furthermore,'  Elspeth  says,  *  how  has  the  mar- 
riage been  postponed  twice  ? '  We  ken  what  the 
servants  at  the  Spittal  says  to  that,  namely,  that 
the  young  lady  is  no  keen  to  take  him,  but 
Elspeth  winna  listen  to  sic  arguments.  She  says 
either  the  earl  had  grown  timid  (as  mony  a  man 
does)  when  the  wedding-day  drew  near,  or  else 
his  sister  that  keeps  his  house  is  mad  at  the 
thocht  o'  losing  her  place ;  but  as  for  the  young 
leddy's  being  sweer,  says  Elspeth,  *  an  earl's  an 
earl  however  auld  he  is,  and  a  lassie's  a  lassie 
however  young  she  is,  and  weel  she  kens  you're 
never  sure  o'  a  man's  no  changing  his  mind  about 
you  till  you're  tied  to  him  by  law,  after  which  it 
doesna  so  muckle  matter  whether  he  changes  his 
mind  about  you  or  no.'  Ay,  there's  a  quirk  in 
it  some  gait,  dominie ;  but  it's  a  deep  water 
Elspeth  canna  bottom." 

"  It  is,"  I  agreed ;  "  but  you  were  to  tell  me 
what  Birse  told  you  of  the  disturbance  at  the 
Spittal." 

"  Ay,  weel,"  he  answered,  "  the  post  puts  the 
wite  o't  on  her  little  leddyship,  as  they  call  her, 
though  she  winna  be  a  leddyship  till  the  morn. 
All  I  can  say  is  that  if  the  earl  was  saft  enough 
to  do  sic  a  thing  out  of  fondness  for  her,  it's  time 


Scene  at  the  Spittal  273 

iie  was  married  on  her,  so  that  he  may  come  to 
his  senses  again.  That's  what  I  say;  but  Els- 
peth  conters  me,  of  course,  and  says  she,  ^  If  the 
young  leddy  was  so  careless  o'  insulting  other 
folks'  ancestors,  it  proves  she  has  nane  o'  her 
ain  ;  for  them  that  has  china  plates  themsel's  is 
the  maist  careful  no  to  break  the  china  plates  of 
others.'  " 

"But  what  was  the  insult?  Was  Lauchlan 
dismissed  ^ " 

"  Na,  faags  !  It  was  waur  than  that.  Domi- 
nie, you're  dull  in  the  uptake  compared  to  Els- 
peth.  I  hadna  telled  her  half  the  story  afore  she 
jaloused  the  rest.  However,  to  begin  again; 
there's  great  feasting  and  rejoicings  gaen  on  at  the 
Spittal  the  now,  and  also  a  banquet,  which  the 
post  says  is  twa  dinners  in  one.  Weel,  there's 
a  curran  Ogilvys  among  the  guests,  and  it  was 
them  that  egged  on  her  little  leddyship  to  make 
the  daring  proposal  to  the  earl.  What  was  the 
proposal?  It  was  no  less  than  that  the  twa 
pipers  should  be  ordered  to  play  *  The  Bonny 
House  o'  Airlie.'  Dominie,  I  wonder  you  can 
tak  it  so  calm  when  you  ken  that's  the  Ogilvys' 
sang,  and  that  it's  aimed  at  the  clan  o'  Campbell." 

"Pooh!"  I  said.  "The  Ogilvys  and  the 
Campbells  used  to  be  mortal  enemies,  but  the 
feud  has  been  long  forgotten." 

"Ay,  I've  heard  tell,"  Waster  Lunny  said, 
sceptically,  "  that  Airlie  and  Argyle  shakes  hands 
now  like  Christians  ;  but  I'm  thinking  that's  just 
afore  the  Queen.  Dinna  speak  now,  for  I'm  in 
the  thick  o't.  Her  little  leddyship  was  all  hing- 
ing in  gold  and  jewels,  the  which  winna  be  her 


274  The  Little  Minister 

ain  till  the  morn  ;  and  she  leans  ower  to  the  earl 
and  whispers  to  him  to  get  the  pipers  to  play 
*The  Bonny  House.'  He  wasna  willing,  for 
says  he,  '  There's  Ogilvys  at  the  table,  and  ane 
o'  the  pipers  is  a  Campbell,  and  we'll  better 
let  sleeping  dogs  lie.'  However,  the  Ogilvys 
lauched  at  his  caution ;  and  he  was  so  infatuated 
wi'  her  little  leddyship  that  he  gae  in,  and  he  cried 
out  to  the  pipers  to  strike  up  '  The  Bonny 
House.'  " 

Waster  Lunny  pulled  his  chair  nearer  me  and 
rested  his  hand  on  my  knees. 

"  Dominie,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  that  fell  now 
and  again  into  a  whisper,  "  them  looking  on 
swears  that  when  Lauchlan  Campbell  heard  these 
monstrous  orders  his  face  became  ugly  and  black, 
so  that  they  kent  in  a  jiffy  what  he  would  do. 
It's  said  a'  body  jumped  back  frae  him  in  a  sud- 
den dread,  except  poor  Angus,  the  other  piper, 
wha  was  busy  tuning  up  for  '  The  Bonny  House.' 
Weel,  Angus  had  got  no  further  in  the  tune  than 
the  first  skirl  when  Lauchlan  louped  at  him,  and 
ripped  up  the  startled  crittur's  pipes  wi'  his  dirk. 
The  pipes  gae  a  roar  o'  agony  like  a  stuck  swine, 
and  fell  gasping  on  the  floor.  What  hap- 
pened next  was  that  Lauchlan,  wi'  his  dirk  handy 
for  onybody  that  micht  try  to  stop  him,  marched 
once  round  the  table,  playing  '  The  Campbells 
are  Coming,'  and  then  straucht  out  o'  the  Spittal, 
his  chest  far  afore  him,  and  his  head  so  weel  back 
that  he  could  see  what  was  going  on  ahint.  Frae 
the  Spittal  to  here  he  never  stopped  that  fearsome 
tune,  and  I'se  warrant  he's  blawing  away  at  it  at 
this  moment  through  the  streets  o'  Thrums." 


Scene  at  the  Spittal  275 

Waster  Lunny  was  not  in  his  usual  spirits, 
or  he  would  have  repeated  his  story  before  he 
left  me,  for  he  had  usually  as  much  difficulty  in 
coming  to  an  end  as  in  finding  a  beginning. 
The  drought  was  to  him  as  serious  a  matter  as 
death  in  the  house,  and  as  little  to  be  forgotten 
for  a  lengthened  period. 

"  There's  to  be  a  prayer-meeting  for  rain  in 
the  Auld  Licht  kirk  the  night,"  he  told  me  as  I 
escorted  him  as  far  as  my  side  of  the  Quharity, 
now  almost  a  dead  stream,  pitiable  to  see,  "  and 
I'm  gaen  ;  though  I'm  sweer  to  leave  thae  puir 
cattle  o'  mine.  You  should  see  how  they  look 
at  me  when  I  gie  them  mair  o'  that  rotten  grass 
to  eat.  It's  eneuch  to  mak  a  man  greet,  for 
what  richt  hae  I  to  keep  kye  when  I  canna 
meat   them  ?  " 

Waster  Lunny  has  said  to  me  more  than  once 
that  the  great  surprise  of  his  life  was  when  Els- 
peth  was  willing  to  take  him.  Many  a  time, 
however,  I  have  seen  that  in  him  which  might 
have  made  any  weaver's  daughter  proud  of  such 
a  man,  and  I  saw  it  again  when  we  came  to  the 
riverside. 

"I'm  no  ane  o'  thae  farmers,"  he  said,  truth- 
fully, "  that's  aye  girding  at  the  weather,  and  Els- 
peth  and  me  kens  that  we  hae  been  dealt  wi' 
bountifully  since  we  took  this  farm  wi'  gey  anx- 
ious hearts.  That  woman,  dominie,  is  eneuch  to 
put  a  brave  face  on  a  coward,  and  it's  no  langer 
syne  than  yestreen  when  I  was  sitting  in  the 
dumps,  looking  at  the  aurora  borealis,  which  I 
canna  but  regard  as  a  messenger  o'  woe,  that  she 
put  her    hand    on    my    shoulder    and    she   says, 


276  The   Little   Minister 

'  Waster  Lunny,  twenty  year  syne  we  began  life 
thegither  wi'  nothing  but  the  claethes  on  our 
back,  and  an  it  please  God  we  can  begin  it  again, 
for  I  hae  you,  and  you  hae  me,  and  I'm  no  cast 
down  if  you're  no.'  Dominie,  is  there  mony  sic 
women  in  the  warld  as  that  ?  " 

"  Many  a  one,"  I  said. 

"  Ay,  man,  it  shamed  me,  for  I  hae  a  kind  o' 
delight  in  angering  Elspeth,  just  to  see  what 
she'll  say.  I  could  hae  ta'en  her  on  my  knee 
at  that  minute,  but  the  bairns  was  there,  and  so 
it  wouldna  hae  dune.  But  I  cheered  her  up,  for, 
after  all,  the  drought  canna  put  us  so  far  back  as 
we  was  twenty  years  syne,  unless  it's  true  what 
my  father  said,  that  the  aurora  borealis  is  the 
devil's  rainbow.  I  saw  it  sax  times  in  July 
month,  and  it  made  me  shut  my  een.  You 
was  out  admiring  it,  dominie,  but  I  can  never  for- 
get that  it  was  seen  in  the  year  twelve  just  afore 
the  great  storm.  I  was  only  a  laddie  then,  but  I 
mind  how  that  awful  wind  stripped  a'  the  stand- 
ing corn  in  the  glen  in  less  time  than  we've  been 
here  at  the  water's  edge.  It  was  called  the  deil's 
besom.  My  father's  hinmost  words  to  me  was, 
'  It's  time  eneuch  to  greet,  laddie,  when  you  see 
the  aurora  borealis.'  I  mind  he  was  so  complete 
ruined  in  an  hour  that  he  had  to  apply  for  relief 
frae  the  poor's  rates.  Think  o'  that,  and  him  a 
proud  man.  He  would  tak  nothing  till  one 
winter  day  when  we  was  a'  starving,  and  syne  I 
gaed  wi'  him  to  speir  for't,  and  he  telled  me  to 
grip  his  hand  ticht,  so  that  the  cauldness  o'  mine 
micht  gie  him  courage.  They  were  doling  out 
the   charity    in   the   Town's    House,  and   I    had 


Scene  at  the  Spittal  277 

never  been  in't  afore.  I  canna  look  at  it  now 
without  thinking  o'  that  day  when  me  and  my 
father  gaed  up  the  stair  the  gither.  Mr.  Duthie 
was  presiding  at  the  time,  and  he  wasna  muckle 
older  than  Mr.  Dishart  is  now.  I  mind  he 
speired  for  proof  that  we  was  needing,  and  my 
father  couldna  speak.  He  just  pointed  at  me. 
*  But  you  have  a  good  coat  on  your  back  your- 
sel','  Mr.  Duthie  said,  for  there  were  mony 
waiting,  sair  needing.  '  It  was  lended  him  to 
come  here,'  I  cried,  and  without  a  word  my  father 
opened  the  coat,  and  they  saw  he  had  nothing  on 
aneath,  and  his  skin  blue  wi'  cauld.  Dominie, 
Mr.  Duthie  handed  him  one  shilHng  and  sax- 
pence,  and  my  father's  fingers  closed  greedily  on't 
for  a  minute,  and  syne  it  fell  to  the  ground. 
They  put  it  back  in  his  hand,  and  it  slipped  out 
again,  and  Mr.  Duthie  gave  it  back  to  him, 
saying,  '  Are  you  so  cauld  as  that  ? '  But,  oh, 
man,  it  wasna  cauld  that  did  it,  but  shame  o' 
being  on  the  rates.  The  blood  a'  ran  to  my 
father's  head,  and  syne  left  it  as  quick,  and  he 
flung  down  the  siller  and  walked  out  o'  the 
Town  House  wi'  me  running  after  him.  We 
warstled  through  that  winter,  God  kens  how,  and 
it's  near  a  pleasure  to  me  to  think  o't  now,  for, 
rain  or  no  rain,  I  can  never  be  reduced  to  sic 
straits  again." 

The  farmer  crossed  the  water  without  using 
the  stilts  which  were  no  longer  necessary,  and  I 
little  thought,  as  I  returned  to  the  schoolhouse, 
what  terrible  things  were  to  happen  before  he 
could  offer  me  his  snuff-mull  again.  Serious  as 
his  talk  had  been,  it  was  neither  of  drought  nor 


278  The   Little   Minister 

of  the  incident  at  the  Spittal  that  I  sat  down 
to  think.  My  anxiety  about  Gavin  came  back  to 
me  until  I  was  like  a  man  imprisoned  between 
walls  of  his  own  building.  It  may  be  that  my 
presentiments  of  that  afternoon  look  gloomier 
now  than  they  were,  because  I  cannot  return  to 
them  save  over  a  night  of  agony,  black  enough  to 
darken  any  tim_e  connected  with  it.  Perhaps  my 
spirits  only  fell  as  the  wind  rose,  for  wind  ever 
takes  me  back  to  Harvie,  and  when  I  think  of 
Harvie  my  thoughts  are  of  the  saddest.  I  know 
that  I  sat  for  some  hours,  now  seeing  Gavin  pay 
the  penalty  of  marrying  the  Egyptian,  and  again 
drifting  back  to  my  days  with  Margaret,  until  the 
wind  took  to  playing  tricks  with  me,  so  that  I 
heard  Adam  Dishart  enter  our  home  by  the  sea 
every  time  the  schoolhouse  door  shook. 

I  became  used  to  the  illusion  after  starting 
several  times,  and  thus  when  the  door  did  open, 
about  seven  o'clock,  it  was  only  the  wind  rushing 
to  my  fire  like  a  shivering  dog  that  made  me  turn 
my  head.  Then  I  saw  the  Egyptian  staring  at 
me,  and  though  her  sudden  appearance  on  my 
threshold  was  a  strange  thing,  I  forgot  it  in  the 
whiteness  of  her  face.  She  was  looking  at  me 
like  one  who  has  asked  a  question  of  life  or 
death,   and  stopped   her  heart  for  the  reply. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  I  cried,  and  for  a  moment  I 
believe  I  was  glad  she  did  not  answer.  She 
seemed  to  have  told  me  already  as  much  as  I 
could  bear. 

"  He  has  not  heard,"  she  said  aloud,  in  an 
expressionless  voice,  and,  turning,  would  have 
slipped  away  without  another  word. 


Scene  at  the  Spittal  279 

"  Is  any  one  dead  ?  "  I  asked,  seizing  her  hands 
and  letting  them  fall,  they  were  so  clammy.  She 
nodded,  and  trying  to  speak  could  not. 

"  He  is  dead,"  she  said  at  last,  in  a  whisper. 
"  Mr.  Dishart  is  dead,"  and  she  sat  down 
quietly. 

At  that  I  covered  my  face,  crying,  "  God  help 
Margaret  !  "  and  then  she  rose,  saying  fiercely, 
so  that  I  drew  back  from  her,  "  There  is  no 
Margaret  ;  he  only  cared  for  me." 

"  She  is  his  mother,"  I  said,  hoarsely,  and  then 
she  smiled  to  me,  so  that  I  thought  her  a  harm- 
less mad  thing,  "  He  was  killed  by  a  piper  called 
Lauchlan  Campbell,"  she  said,  looking  up  at  me 
suddenly.     "  It  was  my  fault." 

"  Poor  Margaret !  "  I  wailed. 

"  And  poor  Babbie,"  she  entreated,  pathetically  ; 
"  will  no  one  say,  '  Poor  Babbie'  ^  " 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

FIRST     JOURNEY     OF     THE     DOMINIE      TO     THRUMS 
DURING    THE    TWENTY-FOUR    HOURS 

"  T  TOW  did  it  happen  ?  "  I  asked  more  than 

X~\  once,  but  the  Egyptian  was  only  with  me 
in  the  body,  and  she  did  not  hear.  I  might  have 
been  talking  to  some  one  a  mile  away  whom  a 
telescope  had  drawn  near  my  eyes. 

When  I  put  on  my  bonnet,  however,  she  knew 
that  I  was  going  to  Thrums,  and  she  rose  and 
walked  to  the  door,  looking  behind  to  see  that 
I   followed. 

"  You  must  not  come,"  I  said,  harshly,  but  her 
hand  started  to  her  heart  as  if  I  had  shot  her,  and 
I  added,  quickly,  "  Come."  We  were  already 
some  distance  on  our  way  before  I  repeated  my 
question. 

"  What  matter  how  it  happened  ?  "  she  an- 
swered, piteously,  and  they  were  words  of  which 
I  felt  the  force.  But  when  she  said  a  little  later, 
"  I  thought  you  would  say  it  is  not  true,"  I  took 
courage,  and  forced  her  to  tell  me  all  she  knew. 
She  sobbed  while  she  spoke,  if  one  may  sob 
without  tears. 

"  I  heard  of  it  at  the  Spittal,"  she  said.  "  The 
news  broke  out  suddenly  there  that  the  piper  had 
quarrelled  with  some  one  in  Thrums,  and  that  in 

280 


First  Journey  to  Thrums  281 

trying  to  separate  them  Mr.  Dishart  was  stabbed. 
There  is  no  doubt  of  its  truth." 

"  We  should  have  heard  of  it  here,"  I  said, 
hopefully,  "  before  the  news  reached  the  Spittal. 
It  cannot  be  true." 

"It  was  brought  to  the  Spittal,"  she  answered, 
"  by  the  hill  road." 

Then  my  spirits  sank  again,  for  I  knew  that 
this  was  possible.  There  is  a  path,  steep  but 
short,  across  the  hills  between  Thrums  and  the 
top  of  the  glen,  which  Mr.  Glendinning  took 
frequently  when  he  had  to  preach  at  both  places 
on  the  same  Sabbath.  It  is  still  called  the 
Minister's  Road. 

"  Yet  if  the  earl  had  believed  it  he  would  have 
sent  some  one  into  Thrums  for  particulars,"  I 
said,  grasping  at  such  comfort  as  I   could  make. 

"He  does  believe  it,"  she  answered.  "He 
told  me  of  it  himself." 

You  see  the  Egyptian  was  careless  of  her 
secret  now ;  but  what  was  that  secret  to  me  ? 
An  hour  ago  it  would  have  been  much,  and 
already  it  was  not  worth  listening  to.  If  she  had 
begun  to  tell  me  why  Lord  Rintoul  took  a  gypsy 
girl  into  his  confidence  I  should  not  have  heard 
her. 

"  I  ran  quickly,"  she  said.  "  Even  if  a  mes- 
senger was  sent  he  might  be  behind  me." 

Was  it  her  words  or  the  tramp  of  a  horse  that 
made  us  turn  our  heads  at  that  moment?  I 
know  not.  But  far  back  in  a  twist  of  the  road 
we  saw  a  horseman  approaching  at  such  a  reck- 
less pace  that  I  thought  he  was  on  a  runaway. 
We   stopped   instinctively,   and  waited  for   him, 


282  The   Little   Minister 

and  twice  he  disappeared  in  hollows  of  the  road, 
and  then  was  suddenly  tearing  down  upon  us.  I 
recognised  in  him  young  Mr.  McKenzie,  a  rela- 
tive of  Rintoul,  and  I  stretched  out  my  arms  to 
compel  him  to  draw  up.  He  misunderstood  my 
motive,  and  was  raising  his  whip  threateningly, 
when  he  saw  the  Egyptian.  It  is  not  too  much 
to  say  that  he  swayed  in  the  saddle.  The  horse 
galloped  on,  though  he  had  lost  hold  of  the 
reins.  He  looked  behind  until  he  rounded  a 
corner,  and  I  never  saw  such  amazement  mixed 
with  incredulity  on  a  human  face.  For  some 
minutes  I  expected  to  see  him  coming  back,  but 
when  he  did  not  I  said,  wonderingly,  to  the 
Egyptian  : 

"  He  knew  you." 

"  Did  he  ?  "  she  answered,  indifferently,  and  I 
think  we  spoke  no  more  until  we  were  in  Windy- 
ghoul.  Soon  we  were  barely  conscious  of  each 
other's  presence.  Never  since  have  I  walked 
between  the  schoolhouse  and  Thrums  in  so  short 
a  time,  nor  seen  so  little  on  the  way. 

In  the  Egyptian's  eyes,  I  suppose,  was  a  pic- 
ture of  Gavin  lying  dead ;  but  if  her  grief  had 
killed  her  thinking  faculties,  mine,  that  was  only 
less  keen  because  I  had  been  struck  down  once 
before,  had  set  all  the  wheels  of  my  brain  in 
action.  For  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  hour  had 
come  when  I  must  disclose  myself  to  Margaret. 

I  had  realised  always  that  if  such  a  necessity 
did  arise  it  could  only  be  caused  by  Gavin's 
premature  death,  or  by  his  proving  a  bad  son  to 
her.  Some  may  wonder  that  I  could  have  looked 
calmly  thus  far  into  the  possible,  but  I  reply  that 


First  Journey  to  Thrums  283 

the  night  of  Adam  Dishart's  home-coming  had 
made  of  me  a  man  whom  the  future  could  not 
surprise  again.  Though  I  saw  Gavin  and  his 
mother  happy  in  our  Auld  Licht  manse,  that  did 
not  prevent  my  considering  the  contingencies 
which  might  leave  her  without  a  son.  In  the 
schoolhouse  I  had  brooded  over  them  as  one 
may  think  over  moves  on  a  draught-board.  It 
may  have  been  idle,  but  it  was  done  that  I  might 
know  how  to  act  best  for  Margaret  if  anything 
untoward  occurred.  The  time  for  such  action 
had  come.  Gavin's  death  had  struck  me  hard, 
but  it  did  not  crush  me.  I  was  not  unprepared. 
I  was  going  to  Margaret  now. 

What  did  I  see  as  I  walked  quickly  along  the 
glen  road,  with  Babbie  silent  by  my  side,  and  I 
doubt  not  pods  of  the  broom  crackling  all  around 
us  ?  I  saw  myself  entering  the  Auld  Licht  manse, 
where  Margaret  sat  weeping  over  the  body  of 
Gavin,  and  there  was  none  to  break  my  coming  to 
her,  for  none  but  she  and  I  knew  what  had  been. 

I  saw  my  Margaret  again,  so  fragile  now,  so 
thin  the  wrists,  her  hair  turned  gray.  No  nearer 
could  I  go,  but  stopped  at  the  door,  grieving  for 
her,  and  at  last  saying  her  name  aloud. 

I  saw  her  raise  her  face,  and  look  upon  me  for 
the  first  time  for  eighteen  years.  She  did  not 
scream  at  sight  of  me,  for  the  body  of  her  son 
lay  between  us,  and  bridged  the  gulf  that  Adam 
Dishart  had  made. 

I  saw  myself  draw  near  her  reverently  and  say, 
"  Margaret,  he  is  dead,  and  that  is  why  I  have 
come  back,"  and  I  saw  her  put  her  arms  round 
my  neck  as  she  often  did  long  ago. 


284  The  Little  Minister 

But  it  was  not  to  be.  Never  since  that  night 
at  Harvie  have  I  spoken  to  Margaret. 

The  Egyptian  and  I  were  to  come  to  Windy- 
ghoul  before  I  heard  her  speak.  She  was  not 
addressing  me.  Here  Gavin  and  she  had  met 
first,  and  she  was  talking  of  that  meeting  to 
herself. 

"  It  was  there,"  I  heard  her  say,  softly,  as  she 
gazed  at  the  bush  beneath  which  she  had  seen 
him  shaking  his  fist  at  her  on  the  night  of  the 
riots.  A  little  farther  on  she  stopped  where  a 
path  from  Windyghoul  sets  off  for  the  well  in 
the  wood.  She  looked  up  it  wistfully,  and  there  I 
left  her  behind,  and  pressed  on  to  the  mud  house 
to  ask  Nanny  Webster  if  the  minister  was  dead. 
Nanny's  gate  was  swinging  in  the  wind,  but  her 
door  was  shut,  and  for  a  moment  I  stood  at  it 
like  a  coward,  afraid  to  enter  and  hear  the  worst. 

The  house  was  empty.  I  turned  from  it 
relieved,  as  if  I  had  got  a  respite,  and  while  I 
stood  in  the  garden  the  Egyptian  came  to  me 
shuddering,  her  twitching  face  asking  the  question 
that  would  not  leave  her  lips. 

"  There  is  no  one  in  the  house,"  I  said. 
"  Nanny  is  perhaps  at  the  well." 

But  the  gypsy  went  inside,  and,  pointing  to 
the  fire,  said,  "It  has  been  out  for  hours.  Do 
you  not  see  ?  The  murder  has  drawn  every  one 
into  Thrums." 

So  I  feared.  A  dreadful  night  was  to  pass 
before  I  knew  that  this  was  the  day  of  the  release 
of  Sanders  Webster,  and  that  frail  Nanny  had 
walked  into  Tilliedrum  to  meet  him  at  the  prison 
gate. 


First  Journey  to  Thrums  285 

Babbie  sank  upon  a  stool,  so  weak  that  I  doubt 
whether  she  heard  me  tell  her  to  wait  there  until 
my  return.  I  hurried  into  Thrums,  not  by  the 
hill,  though  it  is  the  shorter  way,  but  by  the 
Roods,  for  I  must  hear  all  before  I  ventured  to 
approach  the  manse.  From  Windyghoul  to  the 
top  of  the  Roods,  it  is  a  climb  and  then  a  steep 
descent.  The  road  has  no  sooner  reached  its 
highest  point  than  it  begins  to  fall  in  the  straight 
Hne  of  houses  called  the  Roods,  and  thus  I  came 
upon  a  full  view  of  the  street  at  once.  A  cart 
was  labouring  up  it.  There  were  women  sitting 
on  stones  at  their  doors,  and  girls  playing  at 
palaulays,  and  out  of  the  house  nearest  me  came 
a  black  figure.  My  eyes  failed  me ;  I  was  ask- 
ing so  much  from  them.  They  made  him  tall 
and  short,  and  spare  and  stout,  so  that  I  knew 
it  was  Gavin,  and  yet,  looking  again,  feared,  but 
all  the  time,  I  think,  I  knew  it  was  he. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE    HILL    BEFORE    DARKNESS    FELL SCENE    OF 

THE    IMPENDING    CATASTROPHE 

"TT'OU  are  better  now?"  I  heard  Gavin  ask, 

j[      presently. 

He  thought  that  having  been  taken  ill  sud- 
denly I  had  waved  to  him  for  help  because  he 
chanced  to  be  near.  With  all  my  wits  about  me 
I  might  have  left  him  in  that  belief,  for  rather 
would  I  have  deceived  him  than  had  him  wonder 
why  his  welfare  seemed  so  vital  to  me.  But  I, 
who  thought  the  capacity  for  being  taken  aback 
had  gone  from  me,  clung  to  his  arm,  and  thanked 
God  audibly  that  he  still  lived.  He  did  not  tell 
me  then  how  my  agitation  puzzled  him,  but  led 
me  kindly  to  the  hill,  where  we  could  talk  with- 
out listeners.  By  the  time  w^e  reached  it  I  was 
again  wary,  and  I  had  told  him  what  had  brought 
me  to  Thrums,  without  mentioning  how  the  story 
of  his  death  reached  my  ears,  or  through  whom. 

"  Mr.  McKenzie,"  he  said,  interrupting  me, 
"  galloped  all  the  way  from  the  Spittal  on  the 
same  errand.  However,  no  one  has  been  hurt 
much,  except  the  piper  himself." 

Then  he  told  me  how  the  rumour  arose. 

"  You  know  of  the  incident  at  the  Spittal,  and 
that  Campbell  marched  off  in  high  dudgeon  ? 
I  understand  that  he  spoke  to   no  one  between 

286 


The  Hill   Before   Darkness   Fell         287 

the  Spittal  and  Thrums,  but  by  the  time  he  ar- 
rived here  he  was  more  communicative,  yes,  and 
thirstier.  He  was  treated  to  drink  in  several 
public-houses  by  persons  who  wanted  to  hear  his 
story,  and  by  and  by  he  began  to  drop  hints  of 
knowing  something  against  the  earl's  bride.  Do 
you  know  Rob  Dow  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  "  and  what  you  have  done 
for  him." 

"  Ah,  sir  !  "  he  said,  sighing,  "  for  a  long  time  I 
thought  I  was  to  be  God's  instrument  in  making 
a  better  man  of  Rob,  but  my  power  over  him 
went  long  ago.  Ten  short  months  of  the  min- 
istry takes  some  of  the  vanity  out  of  a  man." 

Looking  sideways  at  him  I  was  startled  by  the 
unnatural  brightness  of  his  eyes.  Unconsciously 
he  had  acquired  the  habit  of  pressing  his  teeth 
together  in  the  pauses  of  his  talk,  shutting  them 
on  some  woe  that  would  proclaim  itself,  as  men 
do  who  keep  their  misery  to  themselves. 

"A  few  hours  ago,"  he  went  on,  "I  heard 
Rob's  voice  in  altercation  as  I  passed  the  Bull 
tavern,  and  I  had  a  feeling  that  if  I  failed  with 
him  so  should  I  fail  always  throughout  my  min- 
istry. I  walked  into  the  public-house,  and 
stopped  at  the  door  of  a  room  in  which  Dow 
and  the  piper  were  sitting  drinking.  I  heard 
Rob  saying,  fiercely,  '  If  what  you  say  about  her 
is  true,  Highlandman,  she's  the  woman  I've  been 
looking  for  this  half  year  and  mair ;  what  is  she 
hke  ? '  I  guessed,  from  what  I  had  been  told  of 
the  piper,  that  they  were  speaking  of  the  earl's 
bride;  but  Rob  saw  me  and  came  to  an  abrupt 
stop,  saying  to  his  companion,   '  Dinna  say  an- 


288  The  Little  Minister 

other  word  about  her  afore  the  minister.'  Rob 
would  have  come  away  at  once,  in  answer  to  my 
appeal,  but  the  piper  was  drunk,  and  would  not 
be  silenced.  '  I'll  tell  the  minister  about  her,  too,' 
he  began.  '  You  dinna  ken  what  you're  doing,' 
Rob  roared,  and  then,  as  if  to  save  my  ears  from 
scandal  at  any  cost,  he  struck  Campbell  a  heavy 
blow  on  the  mouth.  I  tried  to  intercept  the 
blow,  with  the  result  that  I  fell,  and  then  some 
one  ran  out  of  the  tavern  crying,  '  He's  killed  !  * 
The  piper  had  been  stunned,  but  the  story  went 
abroad  that  he  had  stabbed  me  for  interfering 
with  him.  That  is  really  all.  Nothing,  as  you 
know,  can  overtake  an  untruth  if  it  has  a  minute's 
start." 

"  Where  is  Campbell  now  ?  " 

"  Sleeping  off  the  effect  of  the  blow  ;  but  Dow 
has  fled.  He  was  terrified  at  the  shouts  of  mur- 
der, and  ran  off  up  the  West  Town  end.  The 
doctor's  dog-cart  was  standing  at  a  door  there, 
and  Rob  jumped  into  it  and  drove  off".  They 
did  not  chase  him  far,  because  he  is  sure  to  hear 
the  truth  soon,  and  then,  doubtless,  he  will  come 
back." 

Though  in  a  few  hours  we  were  to  wonder  at 
our  denseness,  neither  Gavin  nor  I  saw  why  Dow 
had  struck  the  Highlander  down  rather  than  let 
him  tell  his  story  in  the  minister's  presence.  One 
moment's  suspicion  would  have  lit  our  way  to  the 
whole  truth,  but  of  the  spring  to  all  Rob's  beha- 
viour in  the  past  eight  months  we  were  ignorant, 
and  so  to  Gavin  the  Bull  had  only  been  the  scene 
of  a  drunken  brawl,  while  I  forgot  to  think  in  the 
joy  of  finding  him  alive. 


The  Hill   Before  Darkness   Fell         289 

"I  have  a  prayer-meeting  for  rain  presently," 
Gavin  said,  breaking  a  picture  that  had  just  ap- 
peared unpleasantly  before  me  of  Babbie  still  in 
agony  at  Nanny's,  "  but  before  I  leave  you,  tell 
me  why  this  rumour  caused  you  such  distress." 

The  question  troubled  me,  and  I  tried  to  avoid 
it.  Crossing  the  hill  we  had  by  this  time  drawn 
near  a  hollow  called  the  Toad's-hole,  then  gay  and 
noisy  with  a  caravan  of  gypsies.  They  were  those 
same  wild  Lindsays,  for  whom  Gavin  had  searched 
Caddam  one  eventful  night,  and  as  I  saw  them 
crowding  round  their  king,  a  man  well  known  to 
me,  I  guessed  what  they  were  at. 

"  Mr.  Dishart,"  I  said,  abruptly,  "  would  you 
like  to  see  a  gypsy  marriage  ?  One  is  taking  place 
there  just  now.  That  big  fellow  is  the  king,  and 
he  is  about  to  marry  two  of  his  people  over  the 
tongs.  The  ceremony  will  not  detain  us  five 
minutes,  though  the  rejoicings  will  go  on  all 
night." 

I  have  been  present  at  more  than  one  gypsy 
wedding  in  my  time,  and  at  the  wild,  weird  orgies 
that  followed  them,  but  what  is  interesting  to  such 
as  I  may  not  be  for  a  minister's  eyes,  and,  frown- 
ing at  my  proposal,  Gavin  turned  his  back  upon 
the  Toad's-hole.  Then,  as  we  recrossed  the  hill, 
to  get  away  from  the  din  of  the  camp,  I  pointed 
out  to  him  that  the  report  of  his  death  had 
brought  McKenzie  to  Thrums,  as  well   as   me. 

"  As  soon  as  McKenzie  heard  I  was  not  dead," 
he  answered,  "  he  galloped  off  to  the  Spittal,  with- 
out even  seeing  me.  I  suppose  he  posted  back 
to  be  in  time  for  the  night's  rejoicings  there.  So 
you  see,  it  was  not  solicitude  for  me  that  brought 


290  The   Little   Minister 

him.  He  came  because  a  servant  at  the  Spittal 
was  supposed  to  have  done  the  deed." 

"Well,  Mr.  Dishart,"  I  had  to  say,  "why 
should  I  deny  that  I  have  a  warm  regard  for 
you  ?  You  have  done  brave  work  in  our 
town." 

"  It  has  been  little,"  he  replied.  "  With  God's 
help  it  will  be  more  in  future." 

He  meant  that  he  had  given  time  to  his  sad 
love  affair  that  he  owed  to  his  people.  Ol-  seeing 
Babbie  again  I  saw  that  he  had  given  up  hope. 
Instead  of  repining,  he  was  devoting  his  whole 
soul  to  God's  work.  I  was  proud  of  him,  and 
yet  I  grieved,  for  I  could  not  think  that  God 
wanted  him  to  bury  his  youth  so  soon. 

"  I  had  thought,"  he  confessed  to  me,  "  that 
you  were  one  of  those  who  did  not  like  my 
preaching." 

"  You  were  mistaken,"  I  said,  gravely.  I 
dared  not  tell  him  that,  except  his  mother,  none 
would  have  sat  under  him  so  eagerly  as  I. 

"  Nevertheless,"  he  said,  "  you  were  a  member 
of  the  Auld  Licht  church  in  Mr.  Carfrae's  time, 
and  you  left  it  when  I  came." 

"  I  heard  your  first  sermon,"  I  said. 

"  Ah,"  he  replied.  "  I  had  not  been  long  in 
Thrums  before  I  discovered  that  if  I  took  tea 
with  any  of  my  congregation  and  declined  a 
second  cup,  they  thought  it  a  reflection  on  their 
brewing." 

"  You  must  not  look  upon  my  absence  in  that 
light,"  was  all  I  could  say.  "  There  are  reasons 
why  I  cannot  come." 

He  did  not  press  me  further,  thinking  I  meant 


The  Hill   Before   Darkness   Fell         291 

that  the  distance  was  too  great,  though  frailer 
folk  than  I  walked  twenty  miles  to  hear  him. 
We  might  have  parted  thus  had  we  not  wandered 
by  chance  to  the  very  spot  where  I  had  met  him 
and  Babbie.  There  is  a  seat  there  now  for  those 
who  lose  their  breath  on  the  climb  up,  and  so  I 
have  two  reasons  nowadays  for  not  passing  the 
place  by. 

We  read  each  other's  thoughts,  and  Gavin  said, 
calmly,  "  I  have  not  seen  her  since  that  night. 
She  disappeared  as  into  a  grave." 

How  could  I  answer  when  I  knew  that  Babbie 
was  dying  for  want  of  him,  not  half  a  mile  away  ? 

"  You  seemed  to  understand  everything  that 
night,"  he  went  on  ;  "  or  if  you  did  not,  your 
thoughts  were  very  generous  to  me." 

In  my  sorrow  for  him  I  did  not  notice  that  we 
were  moving  on  again,  this  time  in  the  direction 
of  Windyghoul. 

"  She  was  only  a  gypsy  girl,"  he  said,  abruptly, 
and  I  nodded.  "  But  I  hoped,"  he  continued, 
"  that  she  would  be  my  wife." 

"  I  understood  that,"  I  said. 

"  There  was  nothing  monstrous  to  you,"  he 
asked,  looking  me  in  the  face,  "  in  a  minister's 
marrying  a  gypsy  ?  " 

I  own  that  if  I  had  loved  a  girl,  how  ever  far  below 
or  above  me  in  degree,  I  would  have  married  her 
had  she  been  willing  to  take  me.  But  to  Gavin 
I  only  answered,  "  These  are  matters  a  man  must 
decide  for  himself." 

"  I  had  decided  for  myself,"  he  said,  emphati- 
cally. 

"Yet,"  I  said,  wanting  him  to  talk  to  me  of 


292  The  Little  Minister 

Margaret,  "  in  such  a  case  one  might  have  others 
to  consider  besides  himself." 

"  A  man's  marriage,"  he  answered,  "  is  his  own 
affair.  I  would  have  brooked  no  interference 
from  my  congregation." 

I  thought,  "  There  is  some  obstinacy  left  in 
him  still ;  "  but  aloud  I  said,  "  It  was  of  your 
mother  I  was  thinking." 

"  She  would  have  taken  Babbie  to  her  heart," 
he  said,  with  the  fond  conviction  of  a  lover. 

I  doubted  it,  but  I  only  asked,  "  Your  mother 
knows  nothing  of  her  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  he  rejoined.  "  It  would  be  cruelty 
to  tell  my  mother  of  her  now  that  she  is  gone." 

Gavin's  calmness  had  left  him,  and  he  was 
striding  quickly  nearer  to  Windyghoul.  I  was  in 
dread  lest  he  should  see  the  Egyptian  at  Nanny's 
door,  yet  to  have  turned  him  in  another  direction 
might  have  roused  his  suspicions.  When  we 
were  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  mud  house,  I 
knew  that  there  was  no  Babbie  in  sight.  We 
halved  the  distance,  and  then  I  saw  her  at  the 
open  window.  Gavin's  eyes  were  on  the  ground, 
but  she  saw  him.  I  held  my  breath,  fearing  that 
she  would  run  out  to  him. 

"  You  have  never  seen  her  since  that  night  ?  " 
Gavin  asked  me,  without  hope  in  his  voice. 

Had  he  been  less  hopeless,  he  would  have 
wondered  why  I  did  not  reply  immediately.  I 
was  looking  covertly  at  the  mud  house,  of  which 
we  were  now  within  a  few  yards.  Babbie's  face 
had  gone  from  the  window,  and  the  door  remained 
shut.  That  she  could  hear  every  word  we  uttered 
now,  I    could  not  doubt.     But  she  was    hiding 


The  Hill   Before   Darkness   Fell         293 

from  the  man  for  whom  her  soul  longed.  She 
was  sacrificing  herself  for  him. 

"  Never,"  I  answered,  notwithstanding  my  pity 
of  the  brave  girl,  and  then,  while  I  was  shaking 
lest  he  should  go  in  to  visit  Nanny,  I  heard  the 
echo  of  the  Auld  Licht  bell. 

"  That  calls  me  to  the  meeting  for  rain,"  Gavin 
said,  bidding  me  good  night.  I  had  acted  for 
Margaret,  and  yet  I  had  hardly  the  effrontery 
to  take  his  hand.  I  suppose  he  saw  sympathy  in 
my  face,  for  suddenly  the  cry  broke  from  him  : 

"  If  I  could  only  know  that  nothing  evil  had 
befallen  her  !  " 

Babbie  heard  him  and  could  not  restrain  a 
heart-breaking  sob. 

"  What  was  that  ?  "  he  said,  starting. 

A  moment  I  waited,  to  let  her  show  herself  if 
she  chose.      But  the  mud  house  was  silent  again. 

"It  was  some  bov  in  the  wood,"  I  answered. 

"  Good-bye,"  he  said,  trying  to  smile. 

Had  I  let  him  go,  here  would  have  been  the 
end  of  his  love  story,  but  that  piteous  smile 
unmanned  me,  and  I  could  not  keep  the  words 
back. 

"  She  is  in  Nanny's  house,"  I  cried. 

In  another  moment  these  two  were  together 
for  weal  or  woe,  and  I  had  set  off  dizzily  for  the 
schoolhouse,  feeling  now  that  I  had  been  false  to 
Margaret,  and  again  exulting  in  what  I  had  done. 
By  and  by  the  bell  stopped,  and  Gavin  and 
Babbie  regarded  it  as  little  as  I  heeded  the  burns 
now  crossing  the  glen  road  noisily  at  places  that 
had  been  dry  two  hours  before. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

STORY    OF    THE    EGYPTIAN 

GOD  gives  us  more  than,  were  we  not  over- 
bold, we  should  dare  to  ask  for,  and  yet 
how  often  (perhaps  after  saying  "  Thank  God  " 
so  curtly  that  it  is  only  a  form  of  swearing)  we 
are  suppliants  again  within  the  hour.  Gavin  was 
to  be  satisfied  if  he  were  told  that  no  evil  had 
befallen  her  he  loved,  and  all  the  way  between 
the  schoolhouse  and  Windyghoul  Babbie  craved 
for  no  more  than  Gavin's  life.  Now  they  had 
got  their  desires ;  but  do  you  think  they  were 
content? 

The  Egyptian  had  gone  on  her  knees  when 
she  heard  Gavin  speak  of  her.  It  was  her  way 
of  preventing  herself  from  running  to  him.  Then, 
when  she  thought  him  gone,  he  opened  the  door. 
She  rose  and  shrank  back,  but  first  she  had 
stepped  towards  him  with  a  glad  cry.  His  dis- 
appointed arms  met  on  nothing. 

"You,  too,  heard  that  I  was  dead?"  he  said, 
thinking  her  strangeness  but  grief  too  sharply 
turned  to  joy. 

There  were  tears  in  the  word  with  which  she 
answered  him,  and  he  would  have  kissed  her,  but 
she  defended  her  face  with  her  hand. 

"  Babbie,"  he  asked,  beginning  to  fear  that  he 
had   not  sounded  her  deepest  woe,  "  why  have 

294 


Story  of  the  Egyptian  295 

you  left  me  all  this  time  ?  You  are  not  glad  to 
see  me  now  ?  " 

"  I  was  glad,"  she  answered,  in  a  low  voice, 
"  to  see  you  from  the  window,  but  I  prayed  to 
God  not  to  let  you  see  me." 

She  even  pulled  away  her  hand  when  he  would 
have  taken  it.  "  No,  no,  I  am  to  tell  you  every- 
thing now,  and  then  —  " 

"  Say  that  you  love  me  first,"  he  broke  in, 
when  a  sob  checked  her  speaking. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  must  tell  you  first  what  I 
have  done,  and  then  you  will  not  ask  me  to  say 
that.     I  am  not  a  gypsy." 

"What  of  that?"  cried  Gavin.  "  It  was  not 
because  you  were  a  gypsy  that  I  loved  you." 

"  That  is  the  last  time  you  will  say  you  love 
me,"  said  Babbie.  "  Mr.  Dishart,  I  am  to  be 
married  to-morrow." 

She  stopped,  afraid  to  say  more  lest  he  should 
fall,  but  except  that  his  arms  twitched  he  did  not 
move. 

"  I  am  to  be  married  to  Lord  Rintoul,"  she 
went  on.     "  Now  you  know  who  I  am." 

She  turned  from  him,  for  his  piercing  eyes 
frightened  her.  Never  again,  she  knew,  would 
she  see  the  love-light  in  them.  He  plucked  him- 
self from  the  spot  where  he  had  stood  looking  at 
her  and  walked  to  the  window.  When  he  wheeled 
round  there  was  no  anger  on  his  face,  only  a 
pathetic  wonder  that  he  had  been  deceived  so 
easily.  It  was  at  himself  that  he  was  smiling 
grimly  rather  than  at  her,  and  the  change  pained 
Babbie  as  no  words  could  have  hurt  her.  He 
sat  down  on  a  chair  and  waited  for  her  to  go  on. 


2^6  The  Little  Minister 

"  Don't  look  at  me,"  she  said,  "  and  I  will  tell 
you  everything."  He  dropped  his  eyes  listlessly, 
and  had  he  not  asked  her  a  question  from  time 
to  time,  she  would  have  doubted  whether  he 
heard  her. 

"  After  all,"  she  said,  "  a  gypsy  dress  is  my 
birthright,  and  so  the  Thrums  people  were  scarcely 
wrong  in  calling  me  an  Egyptian.  It  is  a  pity 
any  one  insisted  on  making  me  something  differ- 
ent.    I  believe  I  could  have  been  a  good  gypsy." 

"  Who  were  your  parents  ? "  Gavin  asked, 
without  looking  up. 

"  You  ask  that,"  she  said,  "  because  you  have 
a  good  mother.  It  is  not  a  question  that  would 
occur  to  me.  My  mother —  If  she  was  bad, 
may  not  that  be  some  excuse  for  me  ?  Ah,  but 
I  have  no  wish  to  excuse  myself  Have  you 
seen  a  gypsy  cart  with  a  sort  of  hammock  swung 
beneath  it  in  which  gypsy  children  are  carried 
about  the  country?  If  there  are  no  children,  the 
pots  and  pans  are  stored  in  it.  Unless  the  roads 
are  rough  it  makes  a  comfortable  cradle,  and  it 
was  the  only  one  I  ever  knew.  Well,  one  day  I 
suppose  the  road  was  rough,  for  I  was  capsized. 
I  remember  picking  myself  up  after  a  little  and 
running  after  the  cart,  but  they  did  not  hear  my 
cries.  I  sat  down  by  the  roadside  and  stared 
after  the  cart  until  I  lost  sight  of  it.  That  was 
in  England,  and  I  was  not  three  years  old." 

"  But  surely,"  Gavin  said,  "  they  came  back  to 
look  for  you  ?  " 

"  So  far  as  I  know,"  Babbie  answered,  hardly, 
"  they  did  not  come  back.  I  have  never  seen 
them    since.      I    think    they    were    drunk.      My 


Story  of  the  Egyptian  297 

only  recollection  of  my  mother  is  that  she  once 
took  me  to  see  the  dead  body  of  some  gypsy 
who  had  been  murdered.  She  told  me  to  dip 
my  hand  in  the  blood,  so  that  I  could  say  I  had 
done  so  when  I  became  a  woman.  It  was  meant 
as  a  treat  to  me,  and  is  the  one  kindness  I  am 
sure  I  got  from  her.  Curiously  enough,  I  felt 
the  shame  of  her  deserting  me  for  many  years 
afterwards.  As  a  child  I  cried  hysterically  at 
thought  of  it ;  it  pained  me  when  I  was  at  school 
in  Edinburgh  every  time  I  saw  the  other  girls 
writing  home ;  I  cannot  think  of  it  without  a 
shudder  even  now.  It  is  what  makes  me  worse 
than  other  women." 

Her  voice  had  altered,  and  she  was  speaking 
passionately. 

"  Sometimes,"  she  continued,  more  gently,  "  I 
try  to  think  that  my  mother  did  come  back  for 
me,  and  then  went  away  because  she  heard  I  was 
in  better  hands  than  hers.  It  was  Lord  Rintoul 
who  found  me,  and  I  owe  everything  to  him. 
You  will  say  that  he  has  no  need  to  be  proud  of 
me.  He  took  me  home  on  his  horse,  and  paid 
his  gardener's  wife  to  rear  me.  She  was  Scotch, 
and  that  is  why  I  can  speak  two  languages.  It 
was  he,  too,  who  sent  me  to  school  in  Edinburgh." 

"  He  has  been  very  kind  to  you,"  said  Gavin, 
who  would  have  preferred  to  dislike  the  earl. 

"  So  kind,"  answered  Babbie,  "  that  now  he  is 
to  marry  me.  But  do  you  know  why  he  has 
done  all  this  ?  " 

Now  again  she  was  agitated,  and  spoke  indig- 
nantly. 

"  It  is  all   because  I  have  a  pretty  face,"  she 


298  The  Little  Minister 

said,  her  bosom  rising  and  falling.  "  Men  think 
of  nothing  else.  He  had  no  pity  for  the  deserted 
child.  I  knew  that  while  I  was  yet  on  his  horse. 
When  he  came  to  the  gardener's  afterwards,  it 
was  not  to  give  me  some  one  to  love,  it  was  only 
to  look  upon  what  was  called  my  beauty ;  I  was 
merely  a  picture  to  him,  and  even  the  gardener's 
children  knew  it  and  sought  to  terrify  me  by  say- 
ing, '  You  are  losing  your  looks ;  the  earl  will 
not  care  for  you  any  more.'  Sometimes  he 
brought  his  friends  to  see  me,  '  because  I  was 
such  a  lovely  child,'  and  if  they  did  not  agree 
with  him  on  that  point  he  left  without  kissing 
me.  Throughout  my  whole  girlhood  I  was 
taught  nothing  but  to  please  him,  and  the  only 
way  to  do  that  was  to  be  pretty.  It  was  the  only 
virtue  worth  striving  for;  the  others  were  never 
thought  of  when  he  asked  how  I  was  getting  on. 
Once  I  had  fever  and  nearly  died,  yet  this  knowl- 
edge that  my  face  was  everything  was  implanted 
in  me  so  that  my  fear  lest  he  should  think  me 
ugly  when  I  recovered  terrified  me  into  hysterics. 
I  dream  still  that  I  am  in  that  fever,  and  all  my 
fears  return.  He  did  think  me  ugly  when  he 
saw  me  next.  I  remember  the  incident  so  well 
still.  I  had  run  to  him,  and  he  was  lifting  me 
up  to  kiss  me  when  he  saw  that  my  face  had 
changed.  '  What  a  cruel  disappointment,'  he 
said,  and  turned  his  back  on  me.  I  had  given 
him  a  child's  love  until  then,  but  from  that  day 
I  was  hard  and  callous." 

"And  when  was  it  you  became  beautiful  again?" 
Gavin  asked,  by  no  means  in  the  mind  to  pay 
compliments. 


Story  of  the  Egyptian  299 

"  A  year  passed,"  she  continued,  "  before  I 
saw  him  again.  In  that  time  he  had  not  asked 
for  me  once,  and  the  gardener  had  kept  me  out  of 
charity.  It  was  by  an  accident  that  we  met,  and 
at  first  he  did  not  know  me.  Then  he  said, 
*  Why,  Babbie,  I  beheve  you  are  to  be  a  beauty, 
after  all  ! '  I  hated  him  for  that,  and  stalked 
away  from  him,  but  he  called  after  me,  '  Bravo  ! 
she  walks  like  a  queen  ;  '  and  it  was  because  I 
walked  like  a  queen  that  he  sent  me  to  an  Edin- 
burgh school.  He  used  to  come  to  see  me  every 
year,  and  as  I  grew  up  the  girls  called  me  Lady 
Rintoul.  He  was  not  fond  of  me ;  he  is  not 
fond  of  me  now.  He  would  as  soon  think  of 
looking  at  the  back  of  a  picture  as  at  what  I  am 
apart  from  my  face,  but  he  dotes  on  it,  and  is  to 
marry  it.  Is  that  love?  Long  before  I  left 
school,  which  was  shortly  before  you  came  to 
Thrums,  he  had  told  his  sister  that  he  was  deter- 
mined to  marry  me,  and  she  hated  me  for  it, 
making  me  as  uncomfortable  as  she  could,  so 
that  I  almost  looked  forward  to  the  marriage 
because  it  would  be  such  a  humiliation  to  her." 

In  admitting  this  she  looked  shamefacedly  at 
Gavin,  and  then  went  on  : 

"  It  is  humiliating  him,  too.  I  understand  him. 
He  would  like  not  to  want  to  marry  me,  for  he 
is  ashamed  of  my  origin,  but  he  cannot  help  it. 
It  is  this  feeling  that  has  brought  him  here,  so 
that  the  marriage  may  take  place  where  my 
history   is   not  known." 

"  The  secret  has  been  well  kept,"  Gavin  said, 
"  for  they  have  failed  to  discover  it  even  in 
Thrums." 


joo  The  Little  Minister 

"  Some  of  the  Spittal  servants  suspect  it,  never- 
theless," Babble  answered,  "  though  how  much 
they  know  I  cannot  say.  He  has  not  a  servant 
now,  either  here  or  in  England,  who  knew  me  as 
a  child.  The  gardener  who  befriended  me  was 
sent  away  long  ago.  Lord  Rintoul  looks  upon 
me  as  a  disgrace  to  him  that  he  cannot  live 
without." 

"  I  daresay  he  cares  for  you  more  than  you 
think,"  Gavin  said,  gravely. 

"  He  is  infatuated  about  my  face,  or  the  pose 
of  my  head,  or  something  of  that  sort,"  Babbie 
said,  bitterly,  "  or  he  would  not  have  endured  me 
so  long.  I  have  twice  had  the  wedding  post- 
poned, chiefly,  I  believe,  to  enrage  my  natural 
enemy,  his  sister,  who  is  as  much  aggravated  by 
my  reluctance  to  marry  him  as  by  his  desire  to 
marry  me.  However,  I  also  felt  that  imprison- 
ment for  life  was  approaching  as  the  day  drew 
near,  and  I  told  him  that  if  he  did  not  defer  the 
wedding  I  should  run  away.  He  knows  I  am 
capable  of  it,  for  twice  I  ran  away  from  school. 
If  his  sister  only  knew  that  !  " 

For  a  moment  it  was  the  old  Babbie  Gavin 
saw ;  but  her  glee  was  short-lived,  and  she 
resumed,  sedately  : 

"  They  were  kind  to  me  at  school,  but  the  life 
was  so  dull  and  prim  that  I  ran  off  in  a  gypsy 
dress  of  my  own  making.  That  is  what  it  is  to 
have  gypsy  blood  in  one.  I  was  away  for  a  week 
the  first  time,  wandering  the  country  alone,  telling 
fortunes,  dancing  and  singing  in  woods,  and  sleep- 
ing in  barns.  I  am  the  only  woman  in  the  world 
well   brought   up  who   is    not  afraid   of  mice  or 


Story  of  the  Egyptian  301 

rats.  That  is  my  gypsy  blood  again.  After 
that  wild  week  I  went  back  to  the  school  of  my 
own  will,  and  no  one  knows  of  the  escapade  but 
my  schoolmistress  and  Lord  Rintoul.  The  second 
time,  however,  I  was  detecting  singing  in  the 
street,  and  then  my  future  husband  was  asked 
to  take  me  away.  Yet  Miss  Feversham  cried 
when  I  left,  and  told  me  that  I  was  the  nicest 
girl  she  knew,  as  well  as  the  nastiest.  She  said 
she  should  love  me  as  soon  as  I  was  not  one  of 
her  boarders." 

"  And  then  you  came  to  the  Spittal  ?  " 
"  Yes  ;  and  Lord  Rintoul  wanted  me  to  say  I 
was  sorry  for  what  I  had  done,  but  I  told  him 
I  need  not  say  that,  for  I  was  sure  to  do  it  again. 
As  you  know,  I  have  done  it  several  times  since 
then  ;  and  though  I  am  a  different  woman  since  I 
knew  you,  I  dare  say  I  shall  go  on  doing  it  at 
times  all  my  life.  You  shake  your  head  because 
you  do  not  understand.  It  is  not  that  I  make 
up  my  mind  to  break  out  in  that  way  ;  I  may 
not  have  had  the  least  desire  to  do  it  for  weeks, 
and  then  suddenly,  when  I  am  out  riding,  or  at 
dinner,  or  at  a  dance,  the  craving  to  be  a  gypsy 
again  is  so  strong  that  I  never  think  of  resisting 
it ;  I  would  risk  my  life  to  gratify  it.  Yes,  what- 
ever my  life  in  the  future  is  to  be,  I  know  that 
must  be  a  part  of  it.  I  used  to  pretend  at  the 
Spittal  that  I  had  gone  to  bed,  and  then  escape  by 
the  window.  I  was  mad  with  glee  at  those  times, 
but  I  always  returned  before  morning,  except 
once,  the  last  time  I  saw  you,  when  I  was  away 
for  nearly  twenty-four  hours.  Lord  Rintoul  was 
so  glad  to  see  me  come  back  then  that  he  almost 


302  The   Little   Minister 

forgave  me  for  going  away.  There  is  nothing 
more  to  tell  except  that  on  the  night  of  the  riot 
it  was  not  my  gypsy  nature  that  brought  me  to 
Thrums,  but  a  desire  to  save  the  poor  weavers. 
I  had  heard  Lord  Rintoul  and  the  sheriff  dis- 
cussing the  contemplated  raid.  I  have  hidden 
nothing  from  you.  In  time,  perhaps,  I  shall 
have  suffered  sufficiently  for  all  my  wickedness." 

Gavin  rose  weariedly,  and  walked  through  the 
mud  house  looking  at  her. 

"  This  is  the  end  of  it  all,"  he  said,  harshly, 
coming  to  a  standstill.     "  I  love  you.  Babbie." 

"  No,"  she  answered,  shaking  her  head.  "  You 
never  knew  me  until  now,  and  so  it  was  not  me 
you  loved.  I  know  what  you  thought  I  was,  and 
I  will  try  to  be  it  now." 

"  If  you  had  only  told  me  this  before,"  the 
minister  said,  sadly,  "  it  might  not  have  been  too 
late." 

"  I  only  thought  you  like  all  the  other  men  I 
knew,"  she  replied, "  until  the  night  I  came  to  the 
manse.     It  was  only  my  face  you  admired  at  first." 

"  No,  it  was  never  that,"  Gavin  said  with  such 
conviction  that  her  mouth  opened  in  alarm  to 
ask  him  if  he  did  not  think  her  pretty.  She 
did  not  speak,  however,  and  he  continued,  "  You 
must  have  known  that  I  loved  you  from  the  first 
night." 

"  No ;  you  only  amused  me,"  she  said,  like 
one  determined  to  stint  nothing  of  the  truth. 
"  Even  at  the  well   I   laughed  at  your  vows." 

This  wounded  Gavin  afresh,  wretched  as  her 
story  had  made  him,  and  he  said,  tragically,  "You 
have  never  cared  for  me  at  all," 


Story  of  the  Egyptian  303 

"  Oh,  always,  always,"  she  answered,  "  since  I 
knew  what  love  was  ;  and  it  was  you  who  taught 
me. 

Even  in  his  misery  he  held  his  head  high  with 
pride.     At  least  she  did  love  him. 

"  And  then,"  Babbie  said,  hiding  her  face,  "  I 
could  not  tell  you  what  I  was  because  I  knew 
you  would  loathe  me.      I  could  only  go  away." 

She  looked  at  him  forlornly  through  her  tears, 
and  then  moved  towards  the  door.  He  had  sunk 
upon  a  stool,  his  face  resting  on  the  table,  and  it 
was  her  intention  to  slip  away  unnoticed.  But 
he  heard  the  latch  rise,  and,  jumping  up,  said 
sharply,  "  Babbie,  I  cannot  give  you  up." 

She  stood  in  tears,  swinging  the  door  uncon- 
sciously with  her  hand. 

"  Don't  say  that  you  love  me  still,"  she  cried ; 
and  then,  letting  her  hand  fall  from  the  door, 
added,  imploringly,  "  Oh,  Gavin,  do  you  ?  " 


CHAPTER   XXX 


THE    MEETING    FOR    RAIN 


MEANWHILE  the  Auld  Lichts  were  in 
church,  waiting  for  their  minister,  and  it 
was  a  full  meeting,  because  nearly  every  well  in 
Thrums  had  been  scooped  dry  by  anxious  palms. 
Yet  not  all  were  there  to  ask  God's  rain  for 
themselves.  Old  Charles  Yuill  was  in  his  pew, 
after  dreaming  thrice  that  he  would  break  up 
with  the  drought ;  and  Bell  Christison  had 
come,  though  her  man  lay  dead  at  home,  and 
she  thought  it  could  matter  no  more  to  her  how 
things  went  in  the  world. 

You,  who  do  not  love  that  little  congregation, 
would  have  said  that  they  were  waiting  placidly. 
But  probably  so  simple  a  woman  as  Meggy  Rat- 
tray could  have  deceived  you  into  believing  that 
because  her  eyes  were  downcast  she  did  not 
notice  who  put  the  three-penny-bit  in  the  plate. 
A  few  men  were  unaware  that  the  bell  was  work- 
ing overtime,  most  of  them  farmers  with  their 
eyes  on  the  windows,  but  all  the  women  at  least 
were  wondering.  They  knew  better,  however, 
than  to  bring  their  thoughts  to  their  faces,  and 
none  sought  to  catch  another's  eye.  The  men- 
folk looked  heavily  at  their  hats  in  the  seats  in 
front.  Even  when  Hendry  Munn,  instead  of 
marching  to  the  pulpit  with  the  big  Bible  in  his 
hands,  came  as   far  as   the  plate  and   signed  to 

304 


The   Meeting  for  Rain  305 

Peter  Tosh,  elder,  that  he  was  wanted  in  the 
vestry,  you  could  not  have  guessed  how  every 
woman  there  except  Bell  Christison  wished  she 
was  Peter  Tosh.  Peter  was  so  taken  aback  that 
he  merely  gaped  at  Hendry,  until  suddenly  he 
knew  that  his  five  daughters  were  furious  with 
him,  when  he  dived  for  his  hat  and  staggered  to 
the  vestry  with  his  mouth  open.  His  boots 
cheeped  all  the  way,  but  no  one  looked  up. 

"  I  hadna  noticed  the  minister  was  lang  in 
coming,"  Waster  Lunny  told  me  afterward,  "  but 
Elspeth  noticed  it,  and  with  a  quickness  that 
baffles  me  she  saw  I  was  thinking  o'  other  things. 
So  she  let  out  her  foot  at  me.  I  gae  a  low  cough  to 
let  her  ken  I  wasna  sleeping,  but  in  a  minute  out 
goes  her  foot  again.  Ay,  syne  I  thocht  I  micht 
hae  dropped  my  hanky  into  Snecky  Hobart's 
pew,  but  no,  it  was  in  my  tails.  Yet  her  hand  was 
on  the  board,  and  she  was  working  her  fingers 
in  a  way  that  I  kent  meant  she  would  like  to 
shake  me.  Next  I  looked  to  see  if  I  was  sitting 
on  her  frock,  the  which  tries  a  woman  sair,  but  I 
wasna.  '  Does  she  want  to  change  Bibles  wi'  me  ? ' 
I  wondered  ;  'or  is  she  sliding  yont  a  pepper- 
mint to  me? '  It  was  neither,  so  I  edged  as  far 
frae  her  as  I  could  gang.  Weel,  would  you  credit 
it,  I  saw  her  body  coming  nearer  me  inch  by  inch, 
though  she  was  looking  straucht  afore  her,  till 
she  was  within  kick  o'  me,  and  then  out  again 
goes  her  foot.  At  that,  dominie,  I  lost  patience, 
and  I  whispered,  fierce-like,  '  Keep  your  foot  to 
yoursel',  you  limmer  !  '  Ay,  her  intent,  you  see, 
was  to  waken  me  to  what  was  gaen  on,  but  I 
couldna  be  expected  to  ken  that," 


306  The  Little  Minister 

In  the  vestry  Hendry  Munn  was  now  holding 
counsel  with  three  elders,  of  whom  the  chief  was 
Lang  Tammas. 

"  The  laddie  I  sent  to  the  manse,"  Hendry 
said,  "  canna  be  back  this  five  minutes,  and  the 
question  is  how  we're  to  fill  up  that  time.  I'll 
ring  no  langer,  for  the  bell  has  been  in  a  passion 
ever  since  a  quarter  past  eight.  It's  as  sweer  to 
clang  past  the  quarter  as  a  horse  to  gallop  by  its 
stable." 

"  You  could  gang  to  your  box  and  gie  out  a 
psalm,  Tammas,"  suggested  John  Spens. 

"And  would  a  psalm  sung  wi'  sic  an  object," 
retorted  the  precentor,  "mount  higher,  think 
you,  than  a  bairn's  kite?  I'll  insult  the  Almighty 
to  screen  no  minister." 

"  You're  screening  him  better  by  standing 
whaur  you  are,"  said  the  imperturbable  Hendry ; 
"  for  as  lang  as  you  dinna  show  your  face  they'll 
think  it  may  be  you  that's  missing  instead  o' 
Mr.  Dishart." 

Indeed,  Gavin's  appearance  in  church  without 
the  precentor  would  have  been  as  surprising  as 
Tammas's  without  the  minister.  As  certainly  as 
the  shutting  of  a  money-box  is  followed  by  the 
turning  of  the  key,  did  the  precentor  walk  stiffly 
from  the  vestry  to  his  box  a  toll  of  the  bell 
in  front  of  the  minister.  Tammas's  halfpenny 
rang  in  the  plate  as  Gavin  passed  T'nowhead's 
pew,  and  Gavin's  sixpence  with  the  snapping-to 
of  the  precentor's  door.  The  two  men  might 
have  been  connected  by  a  string  that  tightened 
at  ten  yards. 

"  The  congregation  ken  me  ower  weel,"  Tam- 


The  Meeting  for  Rain  307 

mas  said,  "  to  believe  I    would    keep    the  Lord 
waiting." 

"  And  they  are  as  sure  o'  Mr.  Dishart,"  re- 
joined Spens,  with  spirit,  though  he  feared  the 
precentor  on  Sabbaths  and  at  prayer-meetings. 
"  You're  a  hard  man." 

"  I  speak  the  blunt  truth,"  Whamond  an- 
swered. 

"  Ay,"  said  Spens,  "  and  to  tak  credit  for  that 
may  be  like  blawing  that  you're  ower  honest  to 
wear  claethes." 

Hendry,  who  had  gone  to  the  door,  returned 
now  with  the  information  that  Mr.  Dishart  had 
left  the  manse  two  hours  ago  to  pay  visits,  mean- 
ing to  come  to  the  prayer-meeting  before  he 
returned  home. 

"  There's  a  quirk  in  this,  Hendry,"  said  Tosh. 
"  Was  it  Mistress  Dishart  the  laddie  saw  ?  " 

"  No,"  Hendry  replied.  "  It  was  Jean.  She 
canna  get  to  the  meeting  because  the  mistress  is 
nervous  in  the  manse  by  herself;  and  Jean  didna 
like  to  tell  her  that  he's  missing,  for  fear  o' 
alarming  her.     What  are  we  to  do  now?" 

"  He's  an  unfaithful  shepherd,"  cried  the  pre- 
centor, while  Hendry  again  went  out.  "  I  see  it 
written  on  the  walls." 

"  I  dinna,"  said  Spens,  doggedly. 

"  Because,"  retorted  Tammas,  "  having  eyes 
you  see  not." 

"  Tammas,  I  aye  thocht  you  was  fond  o'  Mr, 
Dishart." 

"  If  my  right  eye  were  to  offend  me,"  an- 
swered the  precentor,  "  I  would  pluck  it  out.  I 
suppose  you  think,  and  baith  o'  you  farmers,  too, 


3o8  The  Little   Minister 

that  there's  no  necessity  for  praying  for  rain 
the  nicht  ?  You'll  be  content,  will  ye,  if  Mr. 
Dishart  just  drops  in  to  the  kirk  some  day, 
accidental-like,  and  offers  up  a  bit  prayer  ?  " 

"  As  for  the  rain,"  Spens  said,  triumphantly, 
"  I  wouldna  wonder  though  it's  here  afore  the 
minister.  You  canna  deny,  Peter  Tosh,  that 
there's  been  a  smell  o'  rain  in  the  air  this  twa 
hours  back." 

"  John,"  Peter  said,  agitatedly,  "  dinna  speak 
so  confidently.  I've  kent  it,"  he  whispered, 
"  since  the  day  turned ;  but  it  wants  to  tak  us 
by  surprise,  lad,  and  so  I'm  no  letting  on." 

"  See  that  you  dinna  make  an  idol  o'  the  rain," 
thundered  Whamond.  "  Your  thochts  is  no  wi' 
Him,  but  wi'  the  clouds  ;  and  whaur  your  thochts 
are,  there  will  your  prayers  stick  also." 

"If  you  saw  my  lambs,"  Tosh  began;  and 
then,  ashamed  of  himself,  said,  looking  upward, 
"  He  holds  the  rain  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand." 

"  And  He's  closing  His  neive  ticht  on't  again," 
said  the  precentor,  solemnly.  "  Hearken  to  the 
wind  rising  !  " 

"  God  help  me !  "  cried  Tosh,  wringing  his 
hands.  "  Is  it  fair,  think  you,"  he  said,  passion- 
ately addressing  the  sky,  "  to  show  your  wrath 
wi'  Mr.  Dishart  by  ruining  my  neeps  ?  " 

"  You  were  richt,  Tammas  Whamond,"  Spens 
said,  growing  hard  as  he  listened  to  the  wind, 
"  the  sanctuary  o'  the  Lord  has  been  profaned 
this  nicht  by  him  wha  should  be  the  chief  pillar 
o'  the  building." 

They  were  lowering  brows  that  greeted  Hen- 
dry when  he  returned  to  say  that  Mr.   Dishart 


The  Meeting  for  Rain  309 

had  been  seen  last  on  the  hill  with  the  Glen 
Quharity  dominie. 

"  Some  thinks,"  said  the  kirk  officer,  "  that 
he's  awa  hunting  for  Rob  Dow." 

"  Nothing'll  excuse  him,"  replied  Spens,  "  short 
o'  his  having  fallen  over  the  quarry." 

Hendry's  was  usually  a  blank  face,  but  it  must 
have  looked  troubled  now,  for  Tosh  was  about 
to  say,  "  Hendry,  you're  keeping  something 
back,"  when  the  precentor  said  it  before  him. 

"  Wi'  that  story  o'  Mr.  Dishart's  murder,  no 
many  hours  auld  yet,"  the  kirk  officer  replied, 
evasively,  "  we  should  be  wary  o'  trusting  gossip." 

"  What  hae  you  heard  ?  " 

"  It's  through  the  town,"  Hendry  answered, 
"  that  a  woman  was  wi'  the  dominie." 

"  A  woman ! "  cried  Tosh.  "  The  woman 
there's  been  sic  talk  about  in  connection  wi'  the 
minister  ?     Whaur  are  they  now  ?  " 

"It's  no  kent,  but  —  the  dominie  was  seen 
goin'  hame  by  himsel'." 

"  Leaving  the  minister  and  her  thegither ! " 
cried  the  three  men  at  once. 

"  Hendry  Munn,"  Tammas  said,  sternly, 
"  there's  mair  about  this ;  wha  is  the  woman  ^  " 

"  They  are  liars,"  Hendry  answered,  and  shut 
his  mouth  tight. 

"  Gie  her  a  name,  I  say,"  the  precentor 
ordered,  "  or,  as  chief  elder  of  this  kirk,  sup- 
ported by  mair  than  half  o'  the  session,  I  com- 
mand you  to  lift  your  hat  and  go." 

Hendry  gave  an  appealing  look  to  Tosh  and 
Spens,  but  the  precentor's  solemnity  had  cowed 
them. 


3IO  The  Little  Minister 

"  They  say,  then,"  he  answered,  sullenly,  "  that 
it's  the  E^gyptian.     Yes,  and  I  believe  they  ken." 

The  two  farmers  drew  back  from  this  statement 
incredulously ;  but  Tammas  Whamond  jumped 
at  the  kirk  officer's  throat,  and  some  who  were  in 
the  church  that  night  say  they  heard  Hendry 
scream.  Then  the  precentor's  fingers  relaxed 
their  grip,  and  he  tottered  into  the  middle  of  the 
room. 

"  Hendry,"  he  pleaded,  holding  out  his  arms 
pathetically,  "  tak  back  these  words.  Oh,  man, 
have  pity,  and  tak  them  back  !  " 

But  Hendry  would  not,  and  then  Lang  Tam- 
mas's  mouth  worked  convulsively,  and  he  sobbed, 
crying,  "  Nobody  kent  it,  but  mair  than  mortal 
son,  O  God,  I  did  love  the  lad  !  " 

So  seldom  in  a  lifetime  had  any  one  seen  into 
this  man's  heart  that  Spens  said,  amazed : 

"  Tammas,  Tammas  Whamond,  it's  no  like 
you  to  break  down." 

The  rusty  door  of  Whamond's  heart  swung  to. 

"  Who  broke  down  }  "  he  asked,  fiercely.  "  Let 
no  member  of  this  session  dare  to  break  down  till 
his  work  be  done." 

"  What  work  ?  "  Tosh  said,  uneasily.  "  We 
canna  interfere." 

"  I  would  rather  resign,"  Spens  said,  but  shook 
when  Whamond  hurled  these  words  at  him  : 

"  *  And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  No  man,  having 
put  his  hand  to  the  plough  and  looking  back,  is 
fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God.'  " 

"  It  mayna  be  true,"  Hendry  said,  eagerly. 

"  We'll  soon  see." 

"  He  would  gie  her  up,"  said  Tosh. 


The   Meeting  for   Rain  311 

"  Peter  Tosh,"  answered  Whamond,  sternly, 
"  I  call  upon  you  to  dismiss  the  congregation." 

"  Should  we  no  rather  haud  the  meeting  our- 
sel's  ?  " 

"  We  have  other  work  afore  us,"  replied  the 
precentor. 

"  But  what  can  I  say  ?  "  Tosh  asked,  nervously. 
"  Should  I  offer  up  a  prayer  ?  " 

"I  warn  you  all,"  broke  in  Hendry,  "that 
though  the  congregation  is  sitting  there  quietly, 
they'll  be  tigers  for  the  meaning  o'  this  as  soon 
as  they're  in  the  street." 

"  Let  no  ontruth  be  telled  them,"  said  the 
precentor.  "  Peter  Tosh,  do  your  duty.  John 
Spens,  remain  wi'  me," 

The  church  emptied  silently,  but  a  buzz  of 
excitement  arose  outside.  Many  persons  tried 
to  enter  the  vestry,  but  were  ordered  away, 
and  when  Tosh  joined  his  fellow  elders  the 
people  were  collecting  in  animated  groups  in 
the  square,  or  scattering  through  the  wynds  for 
news. 

"  And  now,"  said  the  precentor,  "  I  call  upon 
the  three  o'  you  to  come  wi'  me.  Hendry  Munn, 
you  gang  first." 

"  I  maun  bide  ahint,"  Hendry  said,  with  a 
sudden  fear,  "  to  lock  up  the  kirk." 

"I'll  lock  up  the  kirk,"  Whamond  answered, 
harshly. 

"  You  maun  gie  me  the  keys,  though,"  en- 
treated the  kirk  officer." 

"  I'll  take  care  o'  the  keys,"  said  Whamond. 

"  I  maun  hae  them,"  Hendry  said,  "  to  open 
the  kirk  on  Sabbath." 


312 


The  Little  Minister 


The  precentor  locked  the  doors,  and  buttoned 
up  the  keys  in  his  trousers  pockets. 

"  Wha  kens,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  of  steel,  "  that 
the  kirk'U  be  open  next  Sabbath  ?  " 

"  Hae  some  mercy  on  him,  Tammas,"  Spens 
implored.     "  He's  no  twa-and-twenty." 

"  Wha  kens,"  continued  the  precentor,  "  but 
that  the  next  time  this  kirk  is  opened  will  be  to 
preach  it  toom  ?  " 

"  What  road  do  we  tak  ?  " 

"  The  road  to  the  hill,  whaur  he  was  seen  last." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

VARIOUS    BODIES    CONVERGING    ON    THE    HILL 

IT  would  be  coming  on  for  a  quarter  past  nine, 
and  a  misty  night,  when  I  reached  the  school- 
house,  and  I  was  so  weary  of  mind  and  body  that 
I  sat  down  without  taking  off  my  bonnet.  I  had 
left  the  door  open,  and  I  remember  listlessly 
watching  the  wind  making  a  target  of  my  candle, 
but  never  taking  a  sufficiently  big  breath  to  do 
more  than  frighten  it.  From  this  lethargy  I  was 
roused  by  the  sound  of  wheels. 

In  the  daytime  our  glen  road  leads  to  many 
parts,  but  in  the  night  only  to  the  doctor's.  Then 
the  gallop  of  a  horse  makes  farmers  start  up  in 
bed  and  cry,  "  Who's  ill  ?  "  I  went  to  my  door 
and  listened  to  the  trap  coming  swiftly  down  the 
lonely  glen,  but  I  could  not  see  it,  for  there  was 
a  trailing  scarf  of  mist  between  the  schoolhouse 
and  the  road.  Presently  I  heard  the  swish  of 
the  wheels  in  water,  and  so  learned  that  they  were 
crossing  the  ford  to  come  to  me.  I  had  been  un- 
strung by  the  events  of  the  evening,  and  fear  at 
once  pressed  thick  upon  me  that  this  might  be  a 
sequel  to  them,  as  indeed  it  was. 

While  still  out  of  sight  the  trap  stopped,  and  I 
heard  some  one  jump  from  it.  Then  came  this 
conversation,  as  distinct  as  though  it  had  been 
spoken  into  my  ear  : 

313 


314  The  Little  Minister 

"  Can  you  see  the  schoolhouse  now,  Mc- 
Kenzie  ?  " 

"  I  am  groping  for  it,  Rintoul.  The  mist  seems 
to  have  made  off  with  the  path." 

"  Where  are  you,  McKenzie  ?  I  have  lost 
sight  of  you." 

It  was  but  a  ribbon  of  mist,  and  as  these  words 
were  spoken  McKenzie  broke  through  it.  I  saw 
him,  though  to  him  1  was  only  a  stone  at  my 
door. 

"  I  have  found  the  house,  Rintoul,"  he  shouted, 
"  and  there  is  a  light  in  it,  so  that  the  fellow  has 
doubtless  returned." 

"  Then  wait  a  moment  for  me." 

"  Stay  where  you  are,  Rintoul,  I  entreat  you, 
and  leave  him  to  me.      He  may  recognise  you." 

"  No,  no,  McKenzie,  I  am  sure  he  never  saw 
me  before.     I  insist  on  accompanying  you." 

"  Your  excitement,  Rintoul,  will  betray  you. 
Let  me  go  alone.  I  can  question  him  without 
rousing  his  suspicions.  Remember,  she  is  only  a 
gypsy  to  him." 

"  He  will  learn  nothing  from  me.  I  am  quite 
calm  now." 

"  Rintoul,  I  warn  you  your  manner  will  betray 
you,  and  to-morrow  it  will  be  roared  through  the 
country-side  that  your  bride  ran  away  from  the 
Spittal  in  a  gypsy  dress,  and  had  to  be  brought 
back  by  force." 

The  altercation  may  have  lasted  another  minute^ 
but  the  suddenness  with  which  I  learned  Babbie's 
secret  had  left  my  ears  incapable  of  learning  more. 
I  daresay  the  two  men  started  when  they  found 
me  at  my  door,  but  they  did  not  remember,  as 


Various   Bodies  Converging  315 

few  do  remember  who  have  the  noisy  day  to  for- 
get it  m,  how  far  the  voice  carries  in  the  night. 

They  came  as  suddenly  on  me  as  I  on  them, 
for  though  they  had  given  unintentional  notice  of 
their  approach,  I  had  lost  sight  of  the  speakers  in 
their  amazing  words.  Only  a  moment  did  young 
McKenzie's  anxiety  to  be  spokesman  give  me  to 
regard  Lord  Rintoul.  I  saw  that  he  was  a  thin 
man  and  tall,  straight  in  the  figure,  but  his  head 
began  to  sink  into  his  shoulders  and  not  very 
steady  on  them.  His  teeth  had  grip  of  his  under- 
lip,  as  if  this  was  a  method  of  controlling  his  agi- 
tation, and  he  was  opening  and  shutting  his  hands 
restlessly.  He  had  a  dog  with  him  which  I  was 
to  meet  again. 

"  Well  met,  Mr.  Ogilvy,"  said  McKenzie,  who 
knew  me  slightly,  having  once  acted  as  judge  at  a 
cock-fight  in  the  schoolhouse.  "  We  were  afraid 
we  should  have  to  rouse  you." 

"  You  will  step  inside  ?  "  I  asked,  awkwardly, 
and  while  I  spoke  I  was  wondering  how  long 
it  would  be  before  the  earl's  excitement  broke 
out. 

"  It  is  not  necessary,"  McKenzie  answered, 
hurriedly.  "  My  friend  and  I  (this  is  Mr.  Mc- 
Clure)  have  been  caught  in  the  mist  without  a 
lamp,  and  we  thought  you  could  perhaps  favour 
us  with  one." 

"  Unfortunately  I  have  nothing  of  the  kind," 
I  said,  and  the  state  of  mind  I  was  in  is  shown 
by  my  answering  seriously. 

"  Then  we  must  wish  you  a  good  night  and 
manage  as  best  we  can,"  he  said  ;  and  then  before 
he  could  touch,  with  affected  indifference,  on  the 


3i6  The  Little  Minister 

real  object  of  their  visit,  the  alarmed  earl  said, 
angrily,  "  McKenzie,  no  more  of  this." 

"  No  more  of  this  delay,  do  you  mean,  Mc- 
Clure  ?  "  asked  McKenzie,  and  then,  turning  to 
me,  said,  "  By  the  way,  Mr.  Ogilvy,  I  think  this 
is  our  second  meeting  to-night.  I  met  you  on 
the  road  a  few  hours  ago  with  your  wife.  Or 
was  it  your  daughter  ?  " 

"  It  was  neither,  Mr.  McKenzie,"  I  answered, 
with  the  calmness  of  one  not  yet  recovered  from 
a  shock.     "  It  was  a  gypsy  girl." 

"  Where  is  she  now  ?  "  cried  Rintoul,  fever- 
ishly ;  but  McKenzie,  speaking  loudly  at  the 
same  time,  tried  to  drown  his  interference  as 
one  obliterates  writing  by  writing  over  it. 

"  A  strange  companion  for  a  schoolmaster,"  he 
said.     "  What  became  of  her?  " 

"  I  left  her  near  Caddam  Wood,"  I  replied, 
"  but  she  is  probably  not  there  now." 

"  Ah,  they  are  strange  creatures,  these  gyp- 
sies ! "  he  said,  casting  a  warning  look  at  the 
earl.  "  Now  I  wonder  where  she  had  been 
bound  for." 

"  There  is  a  gypsy  encampment  on  the  hill,"  I 
answered,  though  I  cannot  say  why. 

"  She  is  there !  "  exclaimed  Rintoul,  and  was 
done  with  me. 

"  I  daresay,"  McKenzie  said,  indifferently. 
"  However,  it  is  nothing  to  us.    Good  night,  sir." 

The  earl  had  started  for  the  trap,  but  Mc- 
Kenzie's  salute  reminded  him  of  a  forgotten 
courtesy,  and,  despite  his  agitation,  he  came 
back  to  apologise.  I  admired  him  for  this. 
Then  my  thoughtlessness  must  needs  mar  all. 


Various   Bodies  Converging  317 

"  Good  night,  Mr.  McKenzie,"  I  said.  "  Good 
night,  Lord  Rintoul." 

I  had  addressed  him  by  his  real  name.  Never 
a  turnip  fell  from  a  bumping,  laden  cart,  and  the 
driver  more  unconscious  of  it,  than  I  that  I  had 
dropped  that  word.  I  reentered  the  house,  but 
had  not  reached  my  chair  when  McKenzie's  hand 
fell  roughly  on  me,  and  I  was  swung  round. 

"  Mr.  Ogilvy,"  he  said,  the  more  savagely  I 
doubt  not  because  his  passions  had  been  chained 
so  long,  "  you  know  more  than  you  would  have 
us  think.  Beware,  sir,  of  recognising  that  gypsy 
should  you  ever  see  her  again  in  different  attire. 
I  advise  you  to  have  forgotten  this  night  when 
you  waken  to-morrow  morning." 

With  a  menacing  gesture  he  left  me,  and  I 
sank  into  a  chair,  glad  to  lose  sight  of  the  glower- 
ing eyes  with  which  he  had  pinned  me  to  the 
wall.  I  did  not  hear  the  trap  cross  the  ford  and 
renew  its  journey.  When  I  looked  out  next,  the 
night  had  fallen  very  dark,  and  the  glen  was  so 
deathly  in  its  drowsiness  that  I  thought  not  even 
the  cry  of  murder  could  tear  its  eyes  open. 

The  earl  and  McKenzie  would  be  some  dis- 
tance still  from  the  hill  when  the  office-bearers 
had  scoured  it  in  vain  for  their  minister.  The 
gypsies,  now  dancing  round  their  fires  to  music 
that,  on  ordinary  occasions,  Lang  Tarn  mas  would 
have  stopped  by  using  his  fists  to  the  glory  of 
God,  had  seen  no  minister,  they  said,  and  disbe- 
lieved in  the  existence  of  the  mysterious  Egyptian. 

"  Liars  they  are  to  trade,"  Spens  declared  to 
his  companions,  "  but  now  and  again  they  speak 
truth,  like  a  standing  clock,  and  Lm  beginning  to 


3i8  The  Little  Minister 

think  the  minister's  lassie  was  invented  in  the 
square." 

"  Not  so,"  said  the  precentor,  "  for  we  saw  her 
oursel's  a  short  year  syne,  and  Hendry  Munn 
there  allows  there's  townsfolk  that  hae  passed 
her  in  the  glen  mair  recently." 

"  I  only  allowed,"  Hendry  said,  cautiously, 
"  that  some  sic  talk  had  shot  up  sudden-like  in 
the  town.  Them  that  pretends  they  saw  her 
says  that  she  joukit  quick  out  o'  sicht." 

"  Ay,  and  there's  another  quirk  in  that," 
responded  the  suspicious  precentor. 

"  I'se  uphaud  the  minister's  sitting  in  the 
manse  in  his  slippers  by  this  time,"  Hendry  said. 

"I'm  willing,"  replied  Whamond,  "to  gang 
back  and  speir,  or  to  search  Caddam  next ;  but 
let  the  matter  drop  I  winna,  though  I  ken  you're 
a'  awid  to  be  hame  now." 

"  And  naturally,"  retorted  Tosh,  "  for  the 
nicht's  coming  on  as  black  as  pick,  and  by 
the  time  we're  at  Caddam  we'll  no  even  see 
the  trees." 

Towards  Caddam,  nevertheless,  they  advanced, 
hearing  nothing  but  a  distant  wind  and  the  whish 
of  their  legs  in  the  broom. 

"  Whaur's  John  Spens  ?  "  Hendry  said, 
suddenly. 

They  turned  back  and  found  Spens  rooted 
to  the  ground,  as  a  boy  becomes  motionless 
when  he  thinks  he  is  within  arm's  reach  of  a 
nest  and  the  bird  sitting  on  the  eggs. 

"  What  do  you  see,  man  ?  "  Hendry  whispered. 

"  As  sure  as  death,"  answered  Spens,  awe- 
struck, "  I    felt  a  drap  o'  rain." 


Various   Bodies   Converging  319 

"  It's  no  rain  we're  here  to  look  for,"  said  the 
precentor. 

"  Peter  Tosh,"  cried  Spens,  "  it  was  a  drap  ! 
Oh,  Peter  !  how  are  you  loolcing  at  me  so  queer, 
Peter,  when  you  should  be  thanking  the  Lord 
for  the  promise  that's  in  that  drap  ?  " 

"  Come  away,"  Whamond  said,  impatiently  ; 
but  Spens  answered,  "  No  till  I've  offered  up 
a  prayer  for  the  promise  that's  in  that  drap. 
Peter  Tosh,  you've  forgotten  to  take  off  your 
bonnet." 

"  Think  twice,  John  Spens,"  gasped  Tosh, 
"  afore  you  pray  for  rain  this  nicht." 

The  others  thought  him  crazy,  but  he  went 
on,  with  a  catch  in  his  voice  : 

"  I  felt  a  drap  o'  rain  mysel',  just  afore  it  came 
on  dark  so  hurried,  and  my  first  impulse  was  to 
wish  that  I  could  carry  that  drap  about  wi'  me 
and  look  at  it.  But,  John  Spens,  when  I  looked 
up  I  saw  sic  a  change  running  ower  the  sky  that 
I  thocht  hell  had  ta'en  the  place  o'  heaven,  and 
that  there  was  waterspouts  gathering  therein  for 
the  drowning  o'  the  world." 

"  There's  no  water  in  hell,"  the  precentor  said, 
grimly. 

"  Genesis  nine,"  said  Spens,  "  verses  eight  to 
seventeen.  Ay,  but  Peter,  you've  startled  me, 
and  I'm  thinking  we  should  be  stepping  hame. 
Is  that  a  licht  ?  " 

"  It'll  be  in  Nanny  Webster's,"  Hendry  said, 
after  they  had  all  regarded  the  light. 

"  I  never  heard  that  Nanny  needed  a  candle  to 
licht  her  to  her  bed,"  the  precentor  muttered. 

"  She  was  awa  to  meet  Sanders  the  day  as  he 


320  The  Little   Minister 

came  out  o'  the  Tilliedrum  gaol,"  Spens  remem- 
bered, "  and  I  daresay  the  licht  means  they're 
hame  again." 

"  It's  well  kent  —  "  began  Hendry,  and  would 
have  recalled  his  words. 

"Hendry  Munn,"  cried  the  precentor,  "if 
you  hae  minded  onything  that  may  help  us,  out 
wi  t. 

"  I  was  just  minding,"  the  kirk  officer  an- 
swered, reluctantly,  "  that  Nanny  allows  it's  Mr. 
Dishart  that  has  been  keeping  her  frae  the 
poorhouse.  You  canna  censure  him  for  that, 
Tammas." 

"  Can  I  no  ?  "  retorted  Whamond.  "  What 
business  has  he  to  befriend  a  woman  that  belongs 
to  another  denomination  ?  I'll  see  to  the  bottom 
o'  that  this  nicht.  Lads,  follow  me  to  Nanny's, 
and  dinna  be  surprised  if  we  find  baith  the  min- 
ister and  the  Egyptian  there." 

They  had  not  advanced  many  yards  when 
Spens  jumped  to  the  side,  crying,  "  Be  wary, 
that's  no  the  wind ;   it's  a  machine  !  " 

Immediately  the  doctor's  dog-cart  was  close  to 
them,  with  Rob  Dow  for  its  only  occupant.  He 
was  driving  slowly,  or  Whamond  could  not  have 
escaped  the  horse's  hoofs. 

"  Is  that  you,  Rob  Dow.? "  said  the  precentor, 
sourly.  "  I  tell  you,  you'll  be  gaoled  for  stealing 
the  doctor's  machine." 

"  The  Hielandman  wasna  muckle  hurt,  Rob," 
Hendry  said,  more  good-naturedly. 

"  I  ken  that,"  replied  Rob,  scowling  at  the 
four  of  them.  "  What  are  you  doing  here  on  sic 
a  nicht  ?  " 


Various   Bodies   Converging  321 

"  Do  you  see  anything  strange  in  the  nicht, 
Rob  ?  "  Tosh  asked,  apprehensively. 

"  It's  setting  to  rain,"  Dow  replied.  "  I  dinna 
see  it,  but  I  feel  it." 

"  Ay,"  said  Tosh,  eagerly,  "  but  will  it  be  a 
saft,  cowdie  sweet  ding-on  ?  " 

"  Let  the  heavens  open  if  they  will,"  interposed 
Spens,  recklessly.  "  I  would  swop  the  drought 
for  rain,  though  it  comes  down  in  a  sheet  as  in 
the  year  twelve." 

"  And  like  a  sheet  it'll  come,"  replied  Dow, 
"  and  the  deil'll  blaw  it  about  wi'  his  biggest 
bellowses." 

Tosh  shivered,  but  Whamond  shook  him 
roughly,  saying : 

"  Keep  your  oaths  to  yoursel',  Rob  Dow,  and 
tell  me,  hae  you  seen  Mr.  Dishart  ?  " 

"  I  hinna,"  Rob  answered,  curtly,  preparing  to 
drive  on. 

"  Nor  the  lassie  they  call  the  Egyptian  ? " 

Rob  leaped  from  the  dog-cart,  crying,  "  What 
does  that  mean  ^  " 

"  Hands  off,"  said  the  precentor,  retreating 
from  him.  "  It  means  that  Mr.  Dishart  neg- 
lected the  prayer-meeting  this  nicht  to  philander 
after  that  heathen  woman." 

"  We're  no  sure  o't,  Tammas,"  remonstrated 
the  kirk  officer.  Dow  stood  quite  still.  "  I 
believe  Rob  kens  it's  true,"  Hendry  added, 
sadly,  "  or  he  would  hae  flown  at  your  throat, 
Tammas  Whamond,  for  saying  these  words." 

Even  this  did  not  rouse  Dow. 

"  Rob  doesna  worship  the  minister  as  he  used 
to  do,"  said  Spens. 


322  The   Little   Minister 

"  And  what  for  no  ?  "  cried  the  precentor. 
"  Rob  Dow,  is  it  because  you've  found  out  about 
this  woman  ?  " 

"You're  a  pack  o'  Hars,"  roared  Rob,  desper- 
ately, "  and  if  you  say  again  that  ony  wandering 
hussy  has  baud  o'  the  minister,  I'll  let  you  see 
whether  I  can  loup  at  throats." 

"  You'll  swear  by  the  Book,"  asked  Whamond, 
relentlessly,  "  that  you've  seen  neither  o'  them 
this  nicht,  nor  them  thegither  at  any  time  ?  " 

"  I  so  swear  by  the  Book,"  answered  poor, 
loyal  Rob.  "  But  what  makes  you  look 
for  Mr.  Dishart  here  ? "  he  demanded,  with 
an  uneasy  look  at  the  light  in  the  mud 
house. 

"  Go  hame,"  replied  the  precentor,  "  and  de- 
liver up  the  machine  you  stole,  and  leave  this 
session  to  do  its  duty.  John,  we  maun  fathom 
the  meaning  o'  that  licht." 

Dow  started,  and  was  probably  at  that  moment 
within  an  ace  of  felling  Whamond. 

"  I'll  come  wi'  you,"  he  said,  hunting  in  his 
mind  for  a  better  way  of  helping  Gavin. 

They  were  at  Nanny's  garden,  but  in  the 
darkness  Whamond  could  not  find  the  gate. 
Rob  climbed  the  paling,  and  was  at  once  lost 
sight  of.  Then  they  saw  his  head  obscure 
the  window.  They  did  not,  however,  hear  the 
groan  that  startled  Babbie. 

"  There's  nobody  there,"  he  said,  coming  back, 
"  but  Nanny  and  Sanders.  You'll  mind  Sanders 
was  to  be  freed  the  day." 

"  I'll  go  in  and  see  Sanders,"  said  Hendry,  but 
the  precentor  pulled   him  back,  saying,  "  You'll 


Various   Bodies   Converging  323 

do  nothing  o'  the  kind,  Hendry  Munn  ;  you'll 
come  awa'  wi'  me  now  to  the  manse." 

"  It's  mair  than  me  and  Peter'll  do,  then,"  said 
Spens,  who  had  been  consulting  with  the  other 
farmer.  "  We're  gaun  as  straucht  hame  as  the 
darkness'll   let  us." 

With  few  more  words  the  session  parted,  Spens 
and  Tosh  setting  off  for  their  farms,  and  Hendry 
accompanying  the  precentor.  No  one  will  ever 
know  where  Dow  went.  I  can  fancy  him,  how- 
ever, returning  to  the  wood,  and  there  drawing 
rein.  I  can  fancy  his  mind  made  up  to  watch  the 
mud  house  until  Gavin  and  the  gypsy  separated, 
and  then  pounce  upon  her.  I  daresay  his  whole 
plot  could  be  condensed  into  a  sentence,  "  If  she's 
got  rid  o'  this  nicht,  we  may  cheat  the  session 
yet."  But  this  is  mere  surmise.  All  I  know  is 
that  he  waited  near  Nanny's  house,  and  by  and 
by  heard  another  trap  coming  up  Windyghoul. 
That  was  just  before  the  ten  o'clock  bell  began 
to  ring. 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

LEADING    SWIFTLY    TO    THE    APPALLING     MARRIAGE 

THE  little  minister  bowed  his  head  in  assent 
when  Babbie's  cry,  "  Oh,  Gavin,  do  you  ?  " 
leapt  in  front  of  her  unselfish  wish  that  he  should 
care  for  her  no  more. 

"  But  that  matters  very  little  now,"  he  said. 

She  was  his  to  do  with  as  he  willed  ;  and,  per- 
haps, the  joy  of  knowing  herself  loved  still  begot 
a  wild  hope  that  he  would  refuse  to  give  her  up. 
If  so,  these  words  laid  it  low,  but  even  the 
sentence  they  passed  upon  her  could  not  kill 
the  self-respect  that  would  be  hers  henceforth. 
"  That  matters  very  little  now,"  the  man  said,  but 
to  the  woman  it  seemed  to  matter  more  than 
anything  else  in  the  world. 

Throughout  the  remainder  of  this  interview 
until  the  end  came,  Gavin  never  faltered.  His 
duty  and  hers  lay  so  plainly  before  him  that 
there  could  be  no  straying  from  it.  Did  Babbie 
think  him  strangely  calm  ?  At  the  Glen  Quhar- 
ity  gathering  I  once  saw  Rob  Angus  lift  a  boulder 
with  such  apparent  ease  that  its  weight  was  dis- 
credited, until  the  cry  arose  that  the  effort  had 
dislocated  his  arm.  Perhaps  Gavin's  quietness 
deceived  the  Egyptian  similarly.  Had  he  stamped, 
she  might  have  understood  better  what  he  suffered, 
standing  there  on  the  hot  embers  of  his  passion. 

324 


Leading  to  the  Appalling  Marriage     325 

"  We  must  try  to  make  amends  now,"  he  said, 
gravely,  "  for  the  wrong  we  have  done." 

"  The  wrong  I  have  done,"  she  said,  correcting 
him.  "  You  will  make  it  harder  for  me  if  you 
blame  yourself     How  vile  I  was  in  those  days  !  " 

"  Those  days,"  she  called  them,  they  seemed 
so  far  away. 

"  Do  not  cry,  Babbie,"  Gavin  replied,  gently. 
"  He  knew  what  you  were,  and  why,  and  He 
pities  you.  'For  His  anger  endureth  but  a 
moment:  in  His  favour  is  life:  weeping  may 
endure  for  a  night,  but  joy  cometh  in  the 
morning.'  " 

"  Not  to  me." 

"  Yes,  to  you,"  he  answered.  "  Babbie,  you 
will  return  to  the  Spittal  now,  and  tell  Lord 
Rintoul  everything." 

"  If  you  wish  it." 

"  Not  because  I  wish  it,  but  because  it  is  right. 
He  must  be  told  that  you  do  not  love  him." 

"  I  never  pretended  to  him  that  I  did,"  Bab- 
bie said,  looking  up.  "  Oh,"  she  added,  with 
emphasis,  "  he  knows  that.  He  thinks  me 
incapable  of  caring  for  any  one." 

"  And  that  is  why  he  must  be  told  of  me," 
Gavin  replied.  "  You  are  no  longer  the  woman 
you  were.  Babbie,  and  you  know  it,  and  I  know 
it,  but  he  does  not  know  it.  He  shall  know  it 
before  he  decides  whether  he  is  to  marry  you." 

Babbie  looked  at  Gavin,  and  wondered  he  did 
not  see  that  this  decision  lay  with  him. 

"  Nevertheless,"  she  said,  "  the  wedding  will 
take  place  to-morrow ;  if  it  did  not.  Lord  Rin- 
toul would  be  the  scorn  of  his  friends." 


326  The   Little   Minister 

"If  it  does,"  the  minister  answered,  "  he  will 
be  the  scorn  of  himself.  Babbie,  there  is  a 
chance." 

"  There  is  no  chance,"  she  told  him.  "  I  shall 
be  back  at  the  Spittal  without  any  one's  knowing 
of  my  absence,  and  when  I  begin  to  tell  him  of 
you,  he  will  tremble,  lest  it  means  my  refusal  to 
marry  him  ;  when  he  knows  it  does  not,  he  will 
wonder  only  why  I  told  him  anything." 

"  He  will  ask  you  to  take  time —  " 

"  No,  he  will  ask  me  to  put  on  my  wedding 
dress.  You  must  not  think  anything  else  pos- 
sible." 

"  So  be  it,  then,"  Gavin  said,  firmly. 

"  Yes,  it  will  be  better  so,"  Babbie  answered, 
and  then,  seeing  him  misunderstand  her  mean- 
ing, exclaimed,  reproachfully,  "  I  was  not  think- 
ing of  myself.  In  the  time  to  come,  whatever 
be  my  lot,  I  shall  have  the  one  consolation,  that 
this  is  best  for  you.     Think  of  your  mother." 

"  She  will  love  you,"  Gavin  said,  "  when  I  tell 
her  of  you." 

"  Yes,"  said  Babbie,  wringing  her  hands  ;  "  she 
will  almost  love  me,  but  for  what  ?  For  not 
marrying  you.  That  is  the  only  reason  any  one 
in  Thrums  will  have  for  wishing  me  well." 

"  No  others,"  Gavin  answered,  "  will  ever 
know  why  I  remained  unmarried." 

"  Will  you  never  marry  ?  "  Babbie  asked,  exult- 
ingly.  "  Ah  !  "  she  cried,  ashamed,  "  but  you 
must." 

"  Never." 

Well,  many  a  man  and  many  a  woman  has 
made  that  vow  in  similar  circumstances,  and  not 


Leading  to  the  Appalling  Marriage     327 

all  have  kept  it.  But  shall  we  who  are  old  smile 
cynically  at  the  brief  and  burning  passion  of  the 
young  ?  "  The  day,"  you  say,  "  will  come 
when  — "  Good  sir,  hold  your  peace.  Their 
agony  was  great  and  now  is  dead,  and,  maybe, 
they  have  forgotten  where  it  lies  buried ;  but 
dare  you  answer  lightly  when  I  ask  you  which 
of  these  things  is  saddest  ? 

Babbie  believed  his  "  Never,"  and,  doubtless, 
thought  no  worse  of  him  for  it ;  but  she  saw  no 
way  of  comforting  him  save  by  disparagement  of 
herself 

"  You  must  think  of  your  congregation,"  she 
said.     "  A  minister  with  a  gypsy  wife  —  " 

"  Would  have  knocked  them  about  with  a 
flail,"  Gavin  interposed,  showing  his  teeth  at  the 
thought  of  the  precentor,  "  until  they  did  her 
reverence." 

She  shook  her  head,  and  told  him  of  her  meet- 
ing with  Micah  Dow.  It  silenced  him ;  not, 
however,  on  account  of  its  pathos,  as  she  thought, 
but  because  it  interpreted  the  riddle  of  Rob's 
behaviour. 

"  Nevertheless,"  he  said,  ultimately,  "  my  duty 
is  not  to  do  what  is  right  in  my  people's  eyes, 
but  what  seems  right  in  my  own." 

Babbie  had  not  heard  him. 

"  I  saw  a  face  at  the  window  just  now,"  she 
whispered,  drawing  closer  to  him. 

"  There  was  no  face  there  ;  the  very  thought 
of  Rob  Dow  raises  him  before  you,"  Gavin 
answered,  reassuringly,  though  Rob  was  nearer  at 
that  moment  than  either  of  them  thought. 

"  I  must  go  away  at  once,"  she  said,  still  with 


3  2  8  The   Little  Minister 

her  eyes  on  the  window.  "  No,  no,  you  shall 
not  come  or  stay  with  me ;  it  is  you  who  are  in 
danger." 

"  Do  not  fear  for  me." 

"  I  must,  if  you  will  not.  Before  you  came  in, 
did  I  not  hear  you  speak  of  a  meeting  you  had 
to  attend  to-night?  " 

"  My  pray —  "  His  teeth  met  on  the  word  ; 
so  abruptly  did  it  conjure  up  the  forgotten  prayer- 
meeting  that  before  the  shock  could  reach  his 
mind  he  stood  motionless,  listening  for  the  bell. 
For  one  instant  all  that  had  taken  place  since  he 
last  heard  it  might  have  happened  between  two 
of  its  tinkles ;  Babbie  passed  from  before  him 
like  a  figure  in  a  panorama,  and  he  saw,  instead, 
a  congregation  in  their  pews. 

"  What  do  you  see  ?  "  Babbie  cried,  in  alarm, 
for  he  seemed  to  be  gazing  at  the  window. 

"  Only  you,"  he  replied,  himself  again  ;  "  I  am 
coming  with  you." 

"  You  must  let  me  go  alone,"  she  entreated ; 
"if  not  for  your  own  safety"  —  but  it  was  only 
him  she  considered  —  "  then  for  the  sake  of  Lord 
Rintoul.  Were  you  and  I  to  be  seen  together 
now,  his  name  and  mine  might  suffer." 

It  was  an  argument  the  minister  could  not 
answer  save  by  putting  his  hands  over  his  face ; 
his  distress  made  Babbie  strong ;  she  moved  to 
the  door,  trying  to  smile. 

"  Go,  Babbie ! "  Gavin  said,  controlling  his 
voice,  though  it  had  been  a  smile  more  pitiful 
than  her  tears.  "God  has  you  in  His  keeping; 
it  is  not  His  will  to  give  me  this  to  bear  for  you." 

They  were  now  in  the  garden. 


Leading  to  the  Appalling  Marriage     329 

"  Do  not  think  of  me  as  unhappy,"  she  said ; 
"  it  will  be  happiness  to  me  to  try  to  be  all  you 
would  have  me  be." 

He  ought  to  have  corrected  her.  "  All  that 
God  would  have  me  be,"  is  what  she  should  have 
said.  But  he  only  replied,  "  You  will  be  a  good 
woman,  and  none  such  can  be  altogether  unhappy  ; 
God  sees  to  that." 

He  might  have  kissed  her,  and  perhaps  she 
thought  so. 

"  I  am  —  I  am  going  now,  dear,"  she  said,  and 
came  back  a  step  because  he  did  not  answer  ;  then 
she  went  on,  and  was  out  of  his  sight  at  three 
yards'  distance.  Neither  of  them  heard  the 
approaching  dog-cart. 

"  You  see,  I  am  bearing  it  quite  cheerfully," 
she  said.  "  I  shall  have  everything  a  woman 
loves ;  do  not  grieve  for  me  so  much." 

Gavin  dared  not  speak  nor  move.  Never  had 
he  found  life  so  hard ;  but  he  was  fighting  with 
the  ignoble  in  himself,  and  winning.  She  opened 
the  gate,  and  it  might  have  been  a  signal  to  the 
dog-cart  to  stop.  They  both  heard  a  dog  barking, 
and  then  the  voice  of  Lord  Rintoul : 

"  That  is  a  light  in  the  window.  Jump  down, 
McKenzie,  and  inquire." 

Gavin  took  one  step  nearer  Babbie  and  stopped. 
He  did  not  see  how  all  her  courage  went  from 
her,  so  that  her  knees  yielded,  and  she  held  out 
her  arms  to  him,  but  he  heard  a  great  sob  and 
then  his  name. 

"  Gavin,  I  am  afraid." 

Gavin  understood  now,  and  I  say  he  would 
have  been  no  man  to  leave  her  after  that ;  only 


330  The  Little  Minister 

a  moment  was  allowed  him,  and  it  was  their  last 
chance  on  earth.  He  took  it.  His  arm  went 
round  his  beloved,  and  he  drew  her  away  from 
Nanny's. 

McKenzie  found  both  house  and  garden  empty. 
"  And  yet,"  he  said,  "  I  swear  some  one  passed 
the  window  as  we  sighted  it." 

"  Waste  no  more  time,"  cried  the  impatient 
earl.  "  We  must  be  very  near  the  hill  now. 
You  will  have  to  lead  the  horse,  McKenzie,  in 
this  darkness ;  the  dog  may  find  the  way  through 
the  broom  for  us." 

"  The  dog  has  run  on,"  McKenzie  replied, 
now  in  an  evil  temper.  "  Who  knows,  it  may 
be  with  her  now  ?  So  we  must  feel  our  way 
cautiously  ;  there  is  no  call  for  capsizing  the  trap 
in  our  haste."  But  there  was  call  for  haste  if 
they  were  to  reach  the  gypsy  encampment  before 
Gavin  and  Babbie  were  made  man  and  wife  over 
the  tongs. 

The  Spittal  dog-cart  rocked  as  it  dragged  its 
way  through  the  broom.  Rob  Dow  followed. 
The  ten  o'clock  bell   began  to  ring. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 

WHILE    THE    TEN    o'CLOCK    BELL    WAS    RINGING 
In  the  square  and  wynds  —  weavers  in  groups 

"IV  TO,  no,  Davit,  Mr.  Dishart  hadna  felt  the 

^\|  blow  the  piper  gave  him  till  he  ascended 
the  pulpit  to  conduct  the  prayer-meeting  for  rain, 
and  then  he  fainted  awa.  Tammas  Whamond 
and  Peter  Tosh  carried  him  to  the  session-house. 
Ay,  an  awful  scene." 

"  How  did  the  minister  no  come  to  the  meet- 
ing ?  I  wonder  how  you  could  expect  it,  Snecky, 
and  his  mother  ta'en  so  suddenly  ill ;  he's  at  her 
bedside,  but  the  doctor  has  little  hope." 

"  This  is  what  has  occurred.  Tailor :  Mr. 
Dishart  never  got  the  length  of  the  pulpit.  He 
fell  in  a  swound  on  the  vestry  floor.  What 
caused  it  ?  Oh,  nothing  but  the  heat.  Thrums 
is  so  dry  that  one  spark  would  set  it  in  a  blaze." 

"  I  canna  get  at  the  richts  o'  what  keeped  him 
frae  the  meeting,  Femie,  but  it  had  something  to 
do  wi'  an  Egyptian  on  the  hill.  Very  like  he 
had  been  trying  to  stop  the  gypsy  marriage  there. 
I  gaed  to  the  manse  to  speir  at  Jean  what  was 
wrang,  but  I'm  thinking  I  telled  her  mair  than 
she  could  tell  me." 

"  Man,  man,  Andrew,  the  wite  o't  lies  wi* 
331 


33^ 


The   Little   Minister 


Peter  Tosh.  He  thocht  we  was  to  hae  sic  a 
terrible  rain  that  he  implored  the  minister  no  to 
pray  for  it,  and  so  angry  was  Mr.  Dishart  that 
he  ordered  the  whole  session  out  o'  the  kirk.  I 
saw  them  in  Couthie's  close,  and  michty  dour 
they  looked." 

"  Yes,  as  sure  as  death,  Tammas  Whamond 
locked  the  kirk  door  in   Mr.   Dishart's  face." 

"  I'm  a'  shaking  !  And  small  wonder,  Marget, 
when  I've  heard  this  minute  that  Mr.  Dishart's 
been  struck  by  lichtning  while  looking  for  Rob 
Dow.  He's  no  killed,  but,  woe's  me  !  They  say 
he'll  never  preach  again." 

"  Nothing  o'  the  kind.  It  was  Rob  that  the 
lichtning  struck  dead  in  the  doctor's  machine. 
The  horse  wasna  touched  ;  it  came  tearing  down 
the  Roods  wi'  the  corpse  sitting  in  the  machine 
like  a  living  man." 

"  What  are  you  listening  to,  woman  ?  Is  it  to 
a  dog  barking  ?  I've  heard  it  this  while,  but  it's 
far  awa." 

In  the  jnanse  kitchen 

"  Jean,  did  you  not  hear  me  ring  ?  I  want  you 
to  —  Why  are  you  staring  out  at  the  window, 
Jean  ? " 

"I  —  I  was  just  hearkening  to  the  ten  o'clock 
bell,  ma'am." 

"  I  never  saw  you  doing  nothing  before  !  Put 
the  heater  in  the  fire,  Jean.  I  want  to  iron  the 
minister's  neck-cloths.  The  prayer-meeting  is 
long  in  coming  out,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  The  —  the  drouth,  ma'am,  has  been  so  cruel 
hard." 


The  Ten   o'Clock   Bell  ^^3 

"  And,  to  my  shame,  I  am  so  comfortable  that 
I  almost  forgot  how  others  are  suffering.  But 
my  son  never  forgets,  Jean.  You  are  not  crying, 
are  you  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am." 

"  Bring  the  iron  to  the  parlour,  then.  And  if 
the  minis —  Why  did  you  start,  Jean  ?  I  only 
heard  a  dog  barking." 

"  I  thocht,  ma'am  —  at  first  I  thocht  it  was 
Mr.  Dishart  opening  the  door.  Ay,  it's  just  a 
dog;  some  gypsy  dog  on  the  hill,  I'm  thinking, 
for  sound  would  carry  far  the  nicht." 

"  Even  you,  Jean,  are  nervous  at  nights,  I  see, 
if  there  is  no  man  in  the  house.  We  shall  hear 
no  more  distant  dogs  barking,  I  warrant,  when 
the  minister  comes  home." 

"  When  he  comes  home,  ma'am." 

On  the  tniddle  of  a  hill — a  man  and  a  woman 

"  Courage,  beloved-;  we  are  nearly  there." 

"  But,  Gavin,  I  cannot  see  the  encampment." 

"  The  night  is  too  dark." 

"  But  the  gypsy  fires  ?  " 

"  They  are  in  the  Toad's-hole." 

"  Listen  to  that  dog  barking." 

"There  are  several  dogs  at  the  encampment, 
Babbie." 

"  There  is  one  behind  us.     See,  there  it  is  !  " 

"  I  have  driven  it  away,  dear.  You  are  trem- 
bling." 

"  What  we  are  doing  frightens  me,  Gavin.  It 
is  at  your  heels  again  !  " 

"  It  seems  to  know  you." 


334  The   Little   Minister 

"  Oh,  Gavin,  it  is  Lord  Rintoul's  collie,  Snap. 
It  will  bite  you." 

"  No,  I  have  driven  it  back  again.  Probably 
the  earl  is  following  us." 

"  Gavin,  I  cannot  go  on  with  this." 

"  Quicker,  Babbie." 

"  Leave  me,  dear,  and  save  yourself." 

"  Lean  on  me,  Babbie." 

"  Oh,  Gavin,  is  there  no  way  but  this  ?  " 

"  No  sure  way." 

"  Even  though  we  are  married  to-night  —  " 

"  We  shall  be  married  in  five  minutes,  and 
then,  whatever  befall,  he  cannot  have  vou." 

"  But  after  ?  " 

"  I  will  take  you  straight  to  the  manse,  to  my 
mother." 

"  Were  it  not  for  that  dog,  I  should  think  we 
were  alone  on  the  hill." 

"  But  we  are  not.  See,  there  are  the  gypsy 
fires." 

On  the  west  side  of  the  hill  —  two  figures 

"  Tammas,  Tammas  Whamond,  Lve  lost  you. 
Should  we  gang  to  the  manse  down  the  fields  ?  " 

"Wheesht,  Hendry  !" 

"  What  are  you  listening  for  ?  " 

"  I  heard  a  dog  barking." 

"  Only  a  gyspy  dog,  Tammas,  barking  at  the 
coming  storm." 

"  The  gypsy  dogs  are  all  tied  up,  and  this  one's 
atween  us  and  the  Toad's-hole.     What  was  that  ?  " 

"  It  was  nothing  but  the  rubbing  of  the  branches 
in  the  cemetery  on  ane  another.  It's  said,  trees 
mak'  that  fearsome  sound  when  they're  terrified." 


The  Ten  o'Clock  Bell  ^35 

"It  was  a  dog  barking  at  somebody  that's  ston- 
ing it.     I  ken  that  sound,  Hendry  Munn." 

"  May  I  die  the  death,  Tammas  Whamond,  if 
a  great  drap  o'  rain  didna  strike  me  the  now, 
and  I  swear  it  was  warm.  I'm  for  running 
hame." 

"  I'm  for  seeing  who  drove  awa  that  dog. 
Come  back  wi'  me,  Hendry." 

"  I  winna.  There's  no  a  soul  on  the  hill  but 
you  and  me  and  thae  daffing  and  drinking  gyp- 
sies. How  do  you  no  answer  me,  Tammas  ? 
Hie,  Tammas  Whamond,  whaur  are  you  ?  He's 
gone  !     Ay,  then  I'll  mak'  tracks  hame." 

In  the  brootn  —  a  dog-cart 

"  Do  you  see  nothing  yet,  McKenzie  ^.  " 

"  Scarce  the  broom  at  my  knees,  Rintoul. 
There  is  not  a  light  on  the  hill." 

"  McKenzie,  can  that  schoolmaster  have  de- 
ceived us  ?  " 

"  It  is  probable." 

"  Urge  on  the  horse,  however.  There  is  a 
road  through  the  broom,  I  know.  Have  we  stuck 
again  ?  " 

"  Rintoul,  she  is  not  here.  I  promised  to 
help  you  to  bring  her  back  to  the  Spittal  before 
this  escapade  became  known,  but  we  have  failed 
to  find  her.  If  she  is  to  be  saved,  it  must  be  by 
herself  I  daresay  she  has  returned  already.  Let 
me  turn  the  horse's  head.  There  is  a  storm 
brewing." 

"  I  will  search  this  gypsy  encampment  first,  if 
it  is  on  the  hill.     Hark  !  that  was  a  dog's  bark. 


2^6  The   Little   Minister 

Yes,  it  is  Snap  ;  but  he  would  not  bark  at  noth- 
ing. Why  do  you  look  behind  you  so  often, 
McKenzie  ?  " 

"  For  some  time,  Rintoul,  it  has  seemed  to  me 
that  we  are  being  followed.      Listen  !  " 

"  I  hear  nothing.  At  last,  McKenzie,  at  last, 
we  are  out  of  the  broom." 

"  And  as  I  live,  Rintoul,  I  see  the  gypsy 
lights  !  " 

It  might  have  been  a  lantern  that  was  flashed 
across  the  hill.  Then  all  that  part  of  the  world 
went  suddenly  on  fire.  Everything  was  horribly 
distinct  in  that  white  light.  The  firs  of  Caddam 
were  so  near  that  it  seemed  to  have  arrested  them 
in  a  silent  march  upon  the  hill.  The  grass  would 
not  hide  a  pebble.  The  ground  was  scored  with 
shadows  of  men  and  things.  Twice  the  light 
flickered  and  recovered  itself  A  red  serpent 
shot  across  it,  and  then  again  black  night  fell. 

The  hill  had  been  illumined  thus  for  nearly 
half  a  minute.  During  that  time  not  even  a  dog 
stirred.  The  shadows  of  human  beings  lay  on 
the  ground  as  motionless  as  logs.  What  had 
been  revealed  seemed  less  a  gypsy  marriage  than 
a  picture.  Or  was  it  that  during  the  ceremony 
every  person  on  the  hill  had  been  turned  into 
stone  ?  The  gypsy  king,  with  his  arm  upraised, 
had  not  had  time  to  let  it  fall.  The  men  and 
women  behind  him  had  their  mouths  open,  as  if 
struck  when  on  the  point  of  calling  out.  Lord 
Rintoul  had  risen  in  the  dog-cart  and  was  leaning 
forward.  One  of  McKenzie's  feet  was  on  the 
shaft.     The  man  crouching  in  the  dog-cart's  wake 


The  Ten  o'Clock   Bell  337 

had  flung  up  his  hands  to  protect  his  face.  The 
precentor,  his  neck  outstretched,  had  a  hand  on 
each  knee.  All  eyes  were  fixed,  as  in  the  death 
glare,  on  Gavin  and  Babbie,  who  stood  before  the 
king,  their  hands  clasped  over  the  tongs.  Fear 
was  petrified  on  the  woman's  face,  determination 
on  the  man's. 

They  were  all  released  by  the  crack  of  the 
thunder,  but  for  another  moment  none  could 
have  swaggered. 

"  That  was  Lord  Rintoul  in  the  dog-cart," 
Babbie  whispered,  drawing  in  her  breath. 

"  Yes,  dear,"  Gavin  answered,  resolutely,  "  and 
now  is  the  time  for  me  to  have  my  first  and  last 
talk  with  him.  Remain  here.  Babbie.  Do  not 
move  till  I  come  back." 

"  But,  Gavin,  he  has  seen.      I  fear  him  still." 

"  He  cannot  touch  you  now,  Babbie.  You 
are  my  wife." 

In  the  vivid  light  Gavin  had  thought  the  dog- 
cart much  nearer  than  it  was.  He  called  Lord 
Rintoul's  name,  but  got  no  answer.  There  were 
shouts  behind,  gypsies  running  from  the  coming 
rain,  dogs  whining,  but  silence  in  front.  The 
minister  moved  on  some  paces.  Away  to  the 
left  he  heard  voices  : 

"  Who  was  the  man,  McKenzie  ?  " 

"  My  lord,  I  have  lost  sight  of  you.  This  is 
not  the  way  to  the  camp." 

"  Tell  me,  McKenzie,  that  you  did  not  see 
what  I  saw." 

"  Rintoul,  I  beseech  you  to  turn  back.  We 
are  too  late." 

"  We  are  not  too  late." 


338  The   Little   Minister 

Gavin  broke  through  the  darkness  between 
them  and  him,  but  they  were  gone.  He  called 
to  them,  and  stopped  to  listen  to  their  feet. 

"  Is  that  you,  Gavin  ? "  Babbie  asked  just 
then. 

For  reply,  the  man  who  had  crept  up  to  her 
clapped  his  hand  upon  her  mouth.  Only  the 
beginning  of  a  scream  escaped  from  her.  A 
strong  arm  drove  her  quickly  southward. 

Gavin  heard  her  cry,  and  ran  back  to  the  en- 
campment. Babbie  was  gone.  None  of  the 
gypsies  had  seen  her  since  the  darkness  came 
back.  He  rushed  hither  and  thither  with  a 
torch  that  only  showed  his  distracted  face  to 
others.  He  flung  up  his  arms  in  appeal  for 
another  moment  of  light ;  then  he  heard  Babbie 
scream  again,  and  this  time  it  was  from  a  distance. 
He  dashed  after  her ;  he  heard  a  trap  speeding 
down  the  greensward  through  the  broom. 

Lord  Rintoul  had  kidnapped  Babbie.  Gavin 
had  no  other  thought  as  he  ran  after  the  dog-cart 
from  which  the  cry  had  come.  The  earl's  dog 
followed  him,  snapping  at  his  heels.  The  rain 
began. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 


THE    GREAT    RAIN 


GAVIN  passed  on  through  Windyghoul, 
thinking  in  his  frenzy  that  he  still  heard 
the  trap.  In  a  rain  that  came  down  like  iron 
rods  every  other  sound  was  beaten  dead.  He 
slipped,  and  before  he  could  regain  his  feet  the 
dog  bit  him.  To  protect  himself  from  dykes  and 
trees  and  other  horrors  of  the  darkness  he  held 
his  arm  before  him,  but  soon  it  was  driven  to  his 
side.  Wet  whips  cut  his  brow  so  that  he  had  to 
protect  it  with  his  hands,  until  it  had  to  bear  the 
lash  again,  for  they  would  not.  Now  he  had 
forced  up  his  knees,  and  would  have  succumbed 
but  for  a  dread  of  being  pinned  to  the  earth. 
This  fight  between  the  man  and  the  rain  went  on 
all  night,  and  long  before  it  ended  the  man  was 
past  the  power  of  thinking. 

In  the  ringing  of  the  ten  o'clock  bell  Gavin 
had  lived  the  seventh  part  of  a  man's  natural  life. 
Only  action  was  required  of  him.  That  accom- 
plished, his  mind  had  begun  to  work  again,  when 
suddenly  the  loss  of  Babbie  stopped  it,  as  we 
may  put  out  a  fire  with  a  great  coal.  The  last 
thing  he  had  reflected  about  was  a  dog-cart  in 
motion,  and,  consequently,  this  idea  clung  to 
him.      His  church,  his  mother,  were  lost  knowl- 

339 


340  The   Little   Minister 

edge  of,  but  still  he  seemed  to  hear  the  trap  in 
front. 

The  rain  increased  in  violence,  appalling  even 
those  who  heard  it  under  cover.  However  rain 
may  storm,  though  it  be  an  army  of  archers  bat- 
tering roofs  and  windows,  it  is  only  terrifying 
when  the  noise  swells  every  instant.  In  those 
hours  of  darkness  it  again  and  again  grew  in  force 
and  doubled  its  fury,  and  was  louder,  louder,  and 
louder,  until  its  next  attack  was  to  be  more  than 
men  and  women  could  listen  to.  They  held 
each  other's  hands  and  stood  waiting.  Then 
abruptly  it  abated,  and  people  could  speak.  I 
believe  a  rain  that  became  heavier  every  second 
for  ten  minutes  would  drive  many  listeners  mad. 
Gavin  was  in  it  on  a  night  that  tried  us  repeat- 
edly for  quite  half  that  time. 

By  and  by  even  the  vision  of  Babbie  in  the 
dog-cart  was  blotted  out.  If  nothing  had  taken 
its  place,  he  would  not  have  gone  on  probably  ;  and 
had  he  turned  back  objectless,  his  strength  would 
have  succumbed  to  the  rain.  Now  he  saw  Babbie 
and  Rintoul  being  married  by  a  minister  who 
was  himself,  and  there  was  a  fair  company  look- 
ing on,  and  always  when  he  was  on  the  point  of 
shouting  to  himself,  whom  he  could  see  clearly, 
that  this  woman  was  already  married,  the  rain 
obscured  his  words  and  the  light  went  out. 
Presently  the  ceremony  began  again,  always  to 
stop  at  the  same  point.  He  saw  it  in  the  light- 
ning flash  that  had  startled  the  hill.  It  gave 
him  courage  to  fight  his  way  onward,  because 
he  thought  he  must  be  heard  if  he  could  draw 
nearer  to  the  company. 


The  Great  Rain  341 

A  regiment  of  cavalry  began  to  trouble  him. 
He  heard  it  advancing  from  the  Spittal,  but  was 
not  dismayed,  for  it  was,  as  yet,  far  distant.  The 
horsemen  came  thundering  on,  filling  the  whole 
glen  of  Quharity.  Now  he  knew  that  they  had 
been  sent  out  to  ride  him  down.  He  paused  in 
dread,  until  they  had  swept  past  him.  They 
came  back  to  look  for  him,  riding  more  furiously 
than  ever,  and  always  missed  him,  yet  his  fears 
of  the  next  time  were  not  lessened.  They  were 
only  the  rain. 

AH  through  the  night  the  dog  followed  him. 
He  would  forget  it  for  a  time,  and  then  it  would 
be  so  close  that  he  could  see  it  dimly.  He  never 
heard  it  bark,  but  it  snapped  at  him,  and  a  grin 
had  become  the  expression  of  its  face.  He  stoned 
it,  he  even  flung  himself  at  it,  he  addressed  it  in 
caressing  tones,  and  always  with  the  result  that  it 
disappeared,  to  come  back  presently. 

He  found  himself  walking  in  a  lake,  and  now 
even  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  must  have 
been  flickering,  for  he  waded  on,  rejoicing  merely 
in  getting  rid  of  the  dog.  Something  in  the 
water  rose,  and  struck  him.  Instead  of  stupe- 
fying him,  the  blow  brought  him  to  his  senses, 
and  he  struggled  for  his  life.  The  ground  slipped 
beneath  his  feet  many  times,  but  at  last  he  was 
out  of  the  water.  That  he  was  out  in  a  flood  he 
did  not  realise ;  yet  he  now  acted  like  one  in  full 
possession  of  his  faculties.  When  his  feet  sank 
in  water,  he  drew  back ;  and  many  times  he 
sought  shelter  behind  banks  and  rocks,  first  test- 
ing their  firmness  with  his  hands.  Once  a  tor- 
rent of  stones,   earth,  and  heather  carried  him 


34-  The   Little   Minister 

down  a  hillside,  until  he  struck  against  a  tree. 
He  twined  his  arms  round  it,  and  had  just  done 
so  when  it  fell  with  him.  After  that,  when  he 
touched  trees  growing  in  water,  he  fled  from 
them,  thus  probably  saving  himself  from  death. 

What  he  heard  now  might  have  been  the  roll 
and  crack  of  the  thunder.  It  sounded  in  his  ear 
like  nothing  else.  But  it  was  really  something 
that  swept  down  the  hill  in  roaring  spouts  of 
water,  and  it  passed  on  both  sides  of  him,  so  that 
at  one  moment,  had  he  paused,  it  v^^ould  have 
crashed  into  him,  and  at  another,  he  was  only 
saved  by  stopping.  He  felt  that  the  struggle  in 
the  dark  was  to  go  on  till  the  crack  of  doom. 

Then  he  cast  himself  upon  the  ground.  It 
moved  beneath  him  like  some  great  animal,  and 
he  rose,  and  stole  away  from  it.  Several  times 
did  this  happen.  The  stones  against  which  his 
feet  struck  seemed  to  acquire  life  from  his  touch. 
So  strong  had  he  become,  or  so  weak  all  other 
things,  that  whatever  clump  he  laid  hands  on,  by 
which  to  pull  himself  out  of  the  water,  was  at 
once  rooted  up. 

The  daylight  would  not  come.  He  longed 
passionately  for  it.  He  tried  to  remember  what 
it  was  like,  and  could  not ;  he  had  been  blind 
so  long.  It  was  away  in  front  somewhere,  and 
he  was  struggling  to  overtake  it.  He  expected 
to  see  it  from  a  dark  place,  when  he  would  rush 
forward  to  bathe  his  arms  in  it,  and  then  the  ele- 
ments that  were  searching  the  world  for  him 
would  see  him,  and  he  would  perish.  But  death 
did  not  seem  too  great  a  penalty  to  pay  for  light. 

And  at  last  day  did  come  back,  gray  and  drear. 


The  Great  Rain  343 

He  saw  suddenly  once  more.  I  think  he  must 
have  been  wandering  the  glen  with  his  eyes  shut, 
as  one  does  shut  them  involuntarily  against  the 
hidden  dangers  of  black  night.  How  different 
was  daylight  from  what  he  had  expected  !  He 
looked,  and  then  shut  his  dazed  eyes  again,  for 
the  darkness  was  less  horrible  than  the  day. 
Had  he  indeed  seen,  or  only  dreamed  that  he 
saw  ?  Once  more  he  looked  to  see  what  the 
world  was  like ;  and  the  sight  that  met  his  eyes 
was  so  mournful  that  he,  who  had  fought  through 
the  long  night,  now  sank  hopeless  and  helpless 
among  the  heather.  The  dog  was  not  far  away, 
and  it,  too,  lost  heart.  Gavin  held  out  his  hand, 
and  Snap  crept  timidly  towards  him.  He  un- 
loosened his  coat,  and  the  dog  nestled  against 
him,  cowed  and  shivering,  hiding  its  head  from 
the  day.  Thus  they  lay,  and  the  rain  beat  upon 
them. 


CHAPTER   XXXV 

THE    GLEN    AT    BREAK    OF    DAY 

MY  first  intimation  that  the  burns  were  in 
flood  came  from  Waster  Lunny,  close  on 
the  strike  of  ten  o'clock.  This  was  some  minutes 
before  they  had  any  rain  in  Thrums.  I  was  in 
the  schoolhouse,  now  piecing  together  the  puzzle 
Lord  Rintoul  had  left  with  me,  and  anon  starting 
upright  as  McKenzie's  hand  seemed  to  tighten 
on  my  arm.  Waster  Lunny  had  been  whistling 
to  me  (with  his  fingers  in  his  mouth)  for  some 
time  before  I  heard  him  and  hurried  out.  I  was 
surprised  and  pleased,  knowing  no  better,  to  be 
met  on  the  threshold  by  a  whisk  of  rain. 

The  night  was  not  then  so  dark  but  that  when 
I  reached  the  Quharity  I  could  see  the  farmer 
take  shape  on  the  other  side  of  it.  He  wanted 
me  to  exult  with  him,  I  thought,  in  the  end  of 
the  drouth,  and  I  shouted  that  I  would  fling 
him  the  stilts. 

"  It's  yoursel'  that  wants  them,"  he  answered, 
excitedly,  "  if  you're  fleid  to  be  left  alone  in  the 
schoolhouse  the  nicht.  Do  you  hear  me,  dominie? 
There  has  been  frichtsome  rain  among  the  hills, 
and  the  Bog  burn  is  coming  down  like  a  sea.  It 
has  carried  awa  the  miller's  brig,  and  the  steading 
o'  Muckle  Pirley  is  standing  three  feet  in  water." 

344 


The  Glen  at  Break  of  Day  345 

"  You're  dreaming,  man,"  I  roared  back,  but 
beside  his  news  he  held  my  doubts  of  no  account. 

"  The  Retery's  in  flood,"  he  went  on,  "  and 
running  wild  through  Hazel  Wood ;  T'now- 
dunnie's  tattie  field's  out  o'  sicht,  and  at  the 
Kirkton  they're  fleid  they've  lost  twa  kye." 

"  There  has  been  no  rain  here,"  I  stammered, 
incredulously. 

"  It's  coming  now,"  he  replied.  "  And  listen  : 
the  story's  out  that  the  Backbone  has  fallen  into 
the  loch.  You  had  better  cross,  dominie,  and 
thole  out  the  nicht  wi'  us." 

The  Backbone  was  a  piece  of  mountainside 
overhanging  a  loch  among  the  hills,  and  legend 
said  that  it  would  one  day  fall  forward  and  squirt 
all  the  water  into  the  glen.  Something  of  the 
kind  had  happened,  but  I  did  not  believe  it 
then ;  with  Httle  wit  I  pointed  to  the  shallow 
Quharity. 

"  It  may  come  down  at  any  minute,"  the 
farmer  answered,  "  and  syne,  mind  you,  you'll  be 
five  miles  frae  Waster  Lunny,  for  there'll  be  no 
crossing  but  by  the  Brig  o'  March.  If  you  winna 
come,  I  maun  awa  back.  I  mauna  bide  langer 
on  the  wrang  side  o'  the  Moss  ditch,  though  it 
has  been  as  dry  this  month  back  as  a  rabbit's 
roady.  But  if  you  — "  His  voice  changed. 
"  God's  sake,  man,"  he  cried,  "  you're  ower  late. 
Look  at  that !      Dinna  look  —  ran,  run  !  " 

If  I  had  not  run  before  he  bade  me,  I  might 
never  have  run  again  on  earth.  I  had  seen  a 
great  shadowy  yellow  river  come  riding  down  the 
Quharity.  I  sprang  from  it  for  my  life ;  and 
when  next  I  looked  behind,  it  was  upon  a  turbu- 


346  The   Little   Minister 

lent  loch,  the  further  bank  lost  in  darkness.  I 
was  about  to  shout  to  Waster  Lunny,  when  a 
monster  rose  in  the  torrent  between  me  and  the 
spot  where  he  had  stood.  It  frightened  me  to 
silence  until  it  fell,  when  I  knew  it  was  but  a  tree 
that  had  been  flung  on  end  by  the  flood.  For 
a  time  there  was  no  answer  to  my  cries,  and  I 
thought  the  farmer  had  been  swept  away.  Then 
I  heard  his  whistle,  and  back  I  ran  recklessly 
through  the  thickening  darkness  to  the  school- 
house.  When  I  saw  the  tree  rise,  I  had  been  on 
ground  hardly  wet  as  yet  with  rain ;  but  by  the 
time  Waster  Lunny  sent  that  reassuring  whistle 
to  me  I  was  ankle-deep  in  water,  and  the  rain  was 
coming  down  like  hail.      I  saw  no  lightning. 

For  the  rest  of  the  night  I  was  only  out  once, 
when  I  succeeded  in  reaching  the  hen-house  and 
brought  all  my  fowls  safely  to  the  kitchen,  except 
a  hen  which  would  not  rise  off  her  young.  Be- 
tween us  we  had  the  kitchen  floor,  a  pool  of 
water ;  and  the  rain  had  put  out  my  fires  already, 
as  effectually  as  if  it  had  been  an  overturned 
broth-pot.  That  I  never  took  off"  my  clothes 
that  night  I  need  not  say,  though  of  what  was 
happening  in  the  glen  I  could  only  guess.  A 
flutter  against  my  window  now  and  again,  when 
the  rain  had  abated,  told  me  of  another  bird  that 
had  flown  there  to  die ;  and  with  Waster  Lunny, 
I  kept  up  communication  by  waving  a  light,  to 
which  he  replied  in  a  similar  manner.  Before 
morning,  however,  he  ceased  to  answer  my  sig- 
nals, and  I  feared  some  catastrophe  had  occurred 
at  the  farm.  As  it  turned  out,  the  family  was 
fighting  with  the  flood  for  the  year's  shearing  of 


The  Glen  at  Break  of  Day  347 

wool,  half  of  which  eventually  went  down  the 
waters,  with  the  wool-shed  on  top  of  it. 

The  schoolhouse  stands  too  high  to  fear  any 
flood,  but  there  were  moments  when  I  thought 
the  rain  would  master  it.  Not  only  the  windows 
and  the  roof  were  rattling  then,  but  all  the  walls, 
and  I  was  like  one  in  a  great  drum.  When  the 
rain  was  doing  its  utmost,  I  heard  no  other 
sound ;  but  when  the  lull  came,  there  was  the 
wash  of  a  heavy  river,  or  a  crack  as  of  artillery 
that  told  of  landslips,  or  the  plaintive  cry  of  the 
peesweep  as  it  rose  in  the  air,  trying  to  entice 
the  waters  away  from  its  nest. 

It  was  a  dreary  scene  that  met  my  gaze  at 
break  of  day.  Already  the  Quharity  had  risen 
six  feet,  and  in  many  parts  of  the  glen  it  was  two 
hundred  yards  wide.  Waster  Lunny's  corn  field 
looked  like  a  bog  grown  over  with  rushes,  and 
what  had  been  his  turnips  had  become  a  lake 
with  small  islands  in  it.  No  dyke  stood  whole 
except  one  that  the  farmer,  unaided,  had  built 
in  a  straight  line  from  the  road  to  the  top  of 
Mount  Bare,  and  my  own,  the  further  end  of 
which  dipped  in  water.  Of  the  plot  of  firs 
planted  fifty  years  earlier  to  help  on  Waster 
Lunny's  crops,  only  a  triangle  had  withstood 
the  night. 

Even  with  the  aid  of  my  field-glass  I  could  not 
estimate  the  damage  on  more  distant  farms,  for 
the  rain,  though  now  thin  and  soft,  as  it  con- 
tinued for  six  days,  was  still  heavy  and  of  a 
brown  colour.  After  breakfast,  —  which  was  in- 
terrupted by  my  bantam  cock's  twice  spilling  my 
milk,  —  I  saw  Waster  Lunny  and  his  son.  Mat- 


348  •         The   Little   Minister 

thew,  running  towards  the  shepherd's  house  with 
ropes  in  their  hands.  The  house,  I  thought, 
must  be  in  the  mist  beyond  ;  and  then  I  sick- 
ened, knowing  all  at  once  that  it  should  be  on 
this  side  of  the  mist.  When  I  had  nerve  to  look 
again,  I  saw,  that  though  the  roof  had  fallen  in, 
the  shepherd  was  astride  one  of  the  walls,  from 
which  he  was  dragged  presently  through  the 
water  by  the  help  of  the  ropes.  I  remember 
noticing  that  he  returned  to  his  house  with  the 
rope  still  about  him,  and  concluded  that  he  had 
gone  back  to  save  some  of  his  furniture.  I  was 
wrong,  however.  There  was  too  much  to  be 
done  at  the  farm  to  allow  this,  but  Waster  Lunny 
had  consented  to  Duncan's  forcing  his  way  back 
to  the  shieling  to  stop  the  clock.  To  both  men 
it  seemed  horrible  to  let  a  clock  go  on  ticking  in 
a  deserted  house. 

Having  seen  this  rescue  accomplished,  I  was 
letting  my  glass  roam  in  the  opposite  direction, 
when  one  of  its  shakes  brought  into  view  some- 
thing on  my  own  side  of  the  river.  I  looked  at 
it  long,  and  saw  it  move  slightly.  Was  it  a 
human  being  ?  No,  it  was  a  dog.  No,  it  was 
a  dog  and  something  else.  I  hurried  out  to  see 
more  clearly,  and  after  a  first  glance  the  glass 
shook  so  in  my  hands  that  I  had  to  rest  it  on 
the  dyke.  For  a  full  minute,  I  daresay,  did  I 
look  through  the  glass  without  blinking,  and  then 
I  needed  to  look  no  more.  That  black  patch  was, 
indeed,  Gavin. 

He  lay  quite  near  the  schoolhouse,  but  I  had 
to  make  a  circuit  of  half  a  mile  to  reach  him.  It 
was  pitiful  to  see  the  dog  doing  its  best  to  come 


The  Glen  at   Break  of  Day  349 

to  me,  and  falling  every  few  steps.  The  poor 
brute  was  discoloured  almost  beyond  recognition  ; 
and  when  at  last  it  reached  me,  it  lay  down  at  my 
feet  and  licked  them.  I  stepped  over  it  and  ran 
on  recklessly  to  Gavin.  At  first  I  thought  he 
was  dead.  If  tears  rolled  down  my  cheeks,  they 
were  not  for  him. 

I  was  no  strong  man,  even  in  those  days,  but  I 
carried  him  to  the  schoolhouse,  the  dog  crawling 
after  us.  Gavin  I  put  upon  my  bed,  and  I  lay 
down  beside  him,  holding  him  close  to  me,  that 
some  of  the  heat  of  my  body  might  be  taken  in 
by  his.  When  he  was  able  to  look  at  me,  how- 
ever, it  was  not  with  understanding,  and  in  vain 
did  my  anxiety  press  him  with  questions.  Only 
now  and  again  would  some  word  in  my  speech 
strike  upon  his  brain  and  produce  at  least  an 
echo.  To  "  Did  you  meet  Lord  Rintoul's  dog- 
cart ?  "  he  sat  up,  saying,  quickly  : 

"  Listen,  the  dog-cart !  " 

"  Egyptian  "  was  not  that  forenoon  among  the 
words  he  knew,  and  I  did  not  think  of  mention- 
ing "  hill."  At  "  rain  "  he  shivered  ;  but  "  Spit- 
tal "  was  what  told  me  most. 

"  He  has  taken  her  back,"  he  replied,  at  once, 
from  which  I  learned  that  Gavin  now  knew  as 
much  of  Babbie  as  I   did. 

I  made  him  as  comfortable  as  possible,  and, 
despairing  of  learning  anything  from  him  in  his 
present  state,  I  let  him  sleep.  Then  I  went  out 
into  the  rain,  very  anxious,  and  dreading  what  he 
might  have  to  tell  me  when  he  woke.  I  waded 
and  jumped  my  way  as  near  to  the  farm  as  I  dared 
go,  and  Waster  Lunny,  seeing  me,  came  to  the 


350  The   Little   Minister 

water's  edge.  At  this  part  the  breadth  of  the 
flood  was  not  forty  yards,  yet  for  a  time  our 
voices  could  no  more  cross  its  roar  than  one 
may  send  a  snowball  through  a  stone  wall.  I 
know  not  whether  the  river  then  quieted  for  a 
space,  or  if  it  was  only  that  the  ears  grow  used  to 
dins  as  the  eyes  distinguish  the  objects  in  a  room 
that  is  at  first  black  to  them  ;  but  after  a  little  we 
were  able  to  shout  our  remarks  across,  much  as 
boys  fling  pebbles,  many  to  fall  into  the  water,  but 
one  occasionally  to  reach  the  other  side.  Waster 
Lunny  would  have  talked  of  the  flood,  but  I  had 
not  come  here  for  that. 

"  How  were  you  home  so  early  from  the 
prayer-meeting  last  night  ?  "   I  bawled. 

"  No  meeting  ...  I  came  straucht  hame  .  .  . 
but  terrible  stories  .  .  .  Mr.  Dishart,"  was  all  I 
caught  after  Waster  Lunny  had  flung  his  words 
across  a  dozen  times. 

I  could  not  decide  whether  it  would  be  wise  to 
tell  him  that  Gavin  was  in  the  schoolhouse,  and 
while  I  hesitated,  he  continued  to  shout : 

"  Some  woman  .  .  .  the  session  .  .  .  Lang 
Tammas  .  .  .  God  forbid  .  .  .  maun  back  to 
the  farm  .   .   .  byre  running  like  a  mill-dam." 

He  signed  to  me  that  he  must  be  off*,  but  my 
signals  delayed  him,  and  after  much  trouble  he 
got  my  question,  "  Any  news  about  Lord  Rin- 
toul  ?  "  My  curiosity  about  the  earl  must  have 
surprised  him,  but  he  answered  : 

"  Marriage  is  to  be  the  day  .   .   .  cannon." 

I  signed  that  I  did  not  grasp  his  meaning. 

"  A  cannon  is  to  be  fired  as  soon  as  they're 
man  and  wife,"  he  bellowed.     "  We'll  hear  it." 


The  Glen  at  Break  of  Day  351 

With  that  we  parted.  On  my  way  home,  I 
remember,  I  stepped  on  a  brood  of  drowned  par- 
tridge. I  was  only  out  half  an  hour,  but  I  had  to 
wring  my  clothes  as  if  they  were  fresh  from  the  tub. 

The  day  wore  on,  and  I  did  not  disturb  the 
sleeper.  A  dozen  times,  I  suppose,  I  had  to 
rehght  my  fire  of  wet  peat  and  roots  ;  but  I  had 
plenty  of  time  to  stare  out  at  the  window,  plenty 
of  time  to  think.  Probably  Gavin's  life  depended 
on  his  sleeping,  but  that  was  not  what  kept  my 
hands  off  him.  Knowing  so  little  of  what  had 
happened  in  Thrums  since  I  left  it,  I  was  forced 
to  guess,  and  my  conclusion  was  that  the  earl  had 
gone  off  with  his  own,  and  that  Gavin  in  a  frenzy 
had  followed  them.  My  wisest  course,  I  thought, 
was  to  let  him  sleep  until  I  heard  the  cannon, 
when  his  struggle  for  a  wife  must  end.  Fifty 
times  at  least  did  I  stand  regarding  him  as  he 
slept ;  and  if  I  did  not  pity  his  plight  sufficiently, 
you  know  the  reason.  What  were  Margaret's 
sufferings  at  this  moment  ?  Was  she  wringing 
her  hands  for  her  son  lost  in  the  flood,  her  son 
in  disgrace  with  the  congregation  ?  By  one 
o'clock  no  cannon  had  sounded,  and  my  sus- 
pense had  become  intolerable.  I  shook  Gavin 
awake,  and  even  as  I  shook  him  demanded  a 
knowledge  of  all  that  had  happened  since  we 
parted  at  Nanny's  gate. 

"How  long  ago  is  that?"  he  asked,  with 
bewilderment. 

"  It  was  last  night,"  I  answered.  "  This 
morning  I  found  you  senseless  on  the  hillside, 
and  brought  you  here,  to  the  Glen  Quharity 
schooihouse.     That  dog  was  with  you." 


352  The  Little  Minister 

He  looked  at  the  dog,  but  I  kept  my  eyes  on 
him,  and  I  saw  intelligence  creep  back,  like  a 
blush,  into  his  face. 

"  Now  I  remember,"  he  said,  shuddering. 
"  You  have  proved  yourself  my  friend,  sir, 
twice  in  the  four  and  twenty  hours." 

"  Only  once,  I  fear,"  I  replied,  gloomily.  "  I 
was  no  friend  when  1  sent  you  to  the  earl's  bride 
last  night." 

"  You  know  who  she  is  ?  "  he  cried,  clutching 
me,  and  finding  it  agony  to  move  his  limbs. 

"  I  know  now,"  I  said,  and  had  to  tell  him 
how  I  knew  before  he  would  answer  another 
question.  Then  I  became  listener,  and  you 
who  read  know  to  what  alarming  story. 

"  And  all  that  time,"  I  cried,  reproachfully, 
when  he  had  done,  "  you  gave  your  mother  not 
a  thought." 

"  Not  a  thought,"  he  answered ;  and  I  saw 
that  he  pronounced  a  harsher  sentence  on  him- 
self than  could  have  come  from  me.  "  All  that 
time  !  "  he  repeated,  after  a  moment.  "It  was 
only  a  few  minutes,  while  the  ten  o'clock  bell 
was  ringing." 

"  Only  a  few  minutes,"  I  said,  "  but  they 
changed  the  channel  of  the  Quharity,  and  per- 
haps they  have  done  not  less  to  you." 

"  That  may  be,"  he  answered,  gravely,  "  but  it 
is  of  the  present  I  must  think  just  now.  Mr. 
Ogilvy,  what  assurance  have  I,  while  lying  here 
helpless,  that  the  marriage  at  the  Spittal  is  not 
going  on  ?  " 

"  None,  I  hope,"  I  said  to  myself,  and  listened 
longingly   for  the  cannon.      But  to   him   I    only 


The  Glen  at  Break  of  Day  ^53 

pointed  out  that  no  woman  need  go  through  a 
form  of  marriage  against  her  will. 

"  Rintoul  carried  her  off  with  no  possible 
purport,"  he  said,  "  but  to  set  my  marriage  at 
defiance,  and  she  has  had  a  conviction  always 
that  to  marry  me  would  be  to  ruin  me.  It  was 
only  in  the  shiver  Lord  Rintoul's  voice  in  the 
darkness  sent  through  her  that  she  yielded  to  my 
wishes.  If  she  thought  that  marriage  last  night 
could  be  annulled  by  another  to-day,  she  would 
consent  to  the  second,  I  believe,  to  save  me  from 
the  effects  of  the  first.  You  are  incredulous,  sir ; 
but  you  do  not  know  of  what  sacrifices  love  is 
capable." 

Something  of  that  I  knew,  but  I  did  not  tell 
him.  I  had  seen  from  his  manner  rather  than 
his  words  that  he  doubted  the  validity  of  the 
gypsy  marriage,  which  the  king  had  only  con- 
sented to  celebrate  because  Babbie  was  herself  an 
Egyptian.  The  ceremony  had  been  interrupted 
in  the  middle. 

"It  was  no  marriage,"  I  said,  with  a  confidence 
I  was  far  from  feeling. 

"In  the  sight  of  God,"  he  replied,  excitedly, 
"  we  took  each  other  for  man  and  wife." 

I  had  to  hold  him  down  in  bed. 

"You  are  too  weak  to  stand,  man,"  I  said, 
"  and  yet  you  think  you  could  start  off  this 
minute  for  the  Spittal." 

"  I  must  go,"  he  cried.  "  She  is  my  wife. 
That  impious  marriage  may  have  taken  place 
already." 

"  Oh,  that  it  had  !  "  was  my  prayer.  "It  has 
not,"  I  said  to  him,     "  A  cannon  is  to  be  fired 


354  The  Little  Minister 

immediately  after  the  ceremony,  and  all  the  glen 
will  hear  it." 

I  spoke  on  the  impulse,  thinking  to  allay  his 
desire  to  be  off;  but  he  said,  "  Then  I  may  yet 
be  in  time."  Somewhat  cruelly  I  let  him  rise, 
that  he  might  realise  his  weakness.  Every  bone 
in  him  cried  out  at  his  first  step,  and  he  sank 
into  a  chair. 

"  You  will  go  to  the  Spittal  for  me  ?  "  he  im- 
plored. 

"I  will  not,"  I  told  him.  "You  are  asking 
me  to  fling  away  my  life." 

To  prove  my  words  I  opened  the  door,  and  he 
saw  what  the  flood  was  doing.  Nevertheless, 
he  rose  and  tottered  several  times  across  the 
room,  trying  to  revive  his  strength.  Though 
every  bit  of  him  was  aching,  I  saw  that  he  would 
make  the  attempt, 

"  Listen  to  me,"  I  said.  "  Lord  Rintoul  can 
maintain  with  some  reason  that  it  was  you  rather 
than  he  who  abducted  Babbie.  Nevertheless, 
there  will  not,  1  am  convinced,  be  any  marriage 
at  the  Spittal  to-day.  When  he  carried  her  off 
from  the  Toad's-hole,  he  acted  under  impulses 
not  dissimilar  to  those  that  took  you  to  it.  Then, 
I  doubt  not,  he  thought  possession  was  all  the 
law,  but  that  scene  on  the  hill  has  staggered 
him  by  this  morning.  Even  though  she 
thinks  to  save  you  by  marrying  him,  he  will 
defer  his  wedding  until  he  learns  the  import  of 
yours." 

I  did  not  believe  in  my  own  reasoning,  but  I 
would  have  said  anything  to  detain  him  until 
that  cannon  was  fired.     He  seemed  to  read  my 


The  Glen  at  Break  of  Day  355 

purpose,  for  he  pushed  my  arguments  from  him 
with  his  hands,  and  continued  to  walk  painfully 
to  and  fro. 

"  To  defer  the  wedding,"  he  said,  "  would  be 
to  tell  all  his  friends  of  her  gypsy  origin,  and  of 
me.      He  will  risk  much  to  avoid  that." 

"In  any  case,"  I  answered,  "  you  must  now 
give  some  thought  to  those  you  have  forgotten, 
your  mother  and  your  church." 

"  That  must  come  afterwards,"  he  said,  firmly. 
"  My  first  duty  is  to  my  wife." 

The  door  swung  to  sharply,  just  then,  and  he 
started.     He  thought  it  was  the  cannon. 

"  I  wish  to  God  it  had  been ! "  I  cried,  inter- 
preting his  thoughts. 

"  Why  do  you  wish  me  ill  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Mr.  Dishart,"  I  said,  solemnly,  rising  and 
facing  him,  and  disregarding  his  question,  "  if 
that  woman  is  to  be  your  wife,  it  will  be  at  a  cost 
vou  cannot  estimate  till  you  return  to  Thrums. 
Do  you  think  that  if  your  congregation  knew  of 
this  gypsy  marriage  they  would  have  you  for 
their  minister  for  another  day  ?  Do  you  enjoy 
the  prospect  of  taking  one  who  might  be  an  earl's 
wife  into  poverty,  —  ay,  and  disgraceful  poverty? 
Do  you  know  your  mother  so  little  as  to  think 
she  could  survive  your  shame  ?  Let  me  warn 
you,  sir,  of  what  I  see.  I  see  another  minister  in 
the  Auld  Licht  kirk,  I  see  you  and  your  wife 
stoned  through  our  wynds,  stoned  from  Thrums, 
as  malefactors  have  been  chased  out  of  it  ere 
now ;  and  as  certainly  as  I  see  these  things  I  see 
a  hearse  standing  at  the  manse  door,  and  stern 
men  denying  a  son's  right  to  help  to  carry  his 


356  The  Little  Minister 

mother's  coffin  to  it.  Go  your  way,  sir ;  but 
first  count  the  cost." 

His  face  quivered  before  these  blows,  but  all 
he  said  was,  "  I  must  dree  my  dreed." 

"  God  is  merciful,"  I  went  on,  "  and  these 
things  need  not  be.  He  is  more  merciful  to 
you,  sir,  than  to  some,  for  the  storm  that  He 
sent  to  save  you  is  ruining  them.  And  yet 
the  farmers  are  to-day  thanking  Him  for  every 
pound  of  wool,  every  blade  of  corn  He  has 
left  them,  while  you  turn  from  Him  because 
He  would  save  you,  not  in  your  way,  but  in 
His.  It  was  His  hand  that  stayed  your  mar- 
riage. He  meant  Babbie  for  the  earl ;  and  if 
it  is  on  her  part  a  loveless  match,  she  only  suffers 
for  her  own  sins.  Of  that  scene  on  the  hill  no 
one  in  Thrums,  or  in  the  glen,  need  ever  know. 
Rintoul  will  see  to  it  that  the  gypsies  vanish  from 
these  parts  for  ever,  and  you  may  be  sure  the  Spit- 
tal  will  soon  be  shut  up.  He  and  McKenzie  have 
as  much  reason  as  yourself  to  be  silent.  You, 
sir,  must  go  back  to  your  congregation,  who  have 
heard  as  yet  only  vague  rumours  that  your  pres- 
ence will  dispel.  Even  your  mother  will  remain 
ignorant  of  what  has  happened.  Your  absence 
from  the  prayer-meeting  you  can  leave  to  me  to 
explain," 

He  was  so  silent  that  I  thought  him  mine,  but 
his  first  words  undeceived  me. 

"  I  thought  I  had  nowhere  so  keen  a  friend," 
he  said  ;  "  but,  Mr.  Ogilvy,  it  is  devil's  work 
you  are  pleading.  Am  I  to  return  to  my  people 
to  act  a  living  lie  before  them  to  the  end  of  my 
days  ?     Do  you  really  think  that  God  devastated 


The  Glen  at  Break  of  Day  357 

a  glen  to  give  me-a  chance  of  becoming  a  villain? 
No,  sir,  I  am  in  His  hands,  and  I  will  do  what  1 
think  right." 

"  You  will  be  dishonoured,"  I  said,  "  in  the 
sight  of  God  and  man." 

"  Not  in  God's  sight,"  he  replied.  "  It  was  a 
sinless  marriage,  Mr.  Ogilvy,  and  I  do  not  regret 
it.  God  ordained  that  she  and  I  should  love 
each  other,  and  He  put  it  into  my  power  to  save 
her  from  that  man.  I  took  her  as  my  wife  before 
Him,  and  in  His  eyes  I  am  her  husband.  Know- 
ing that,  sir,  how  could  I  return  to  Thrums 
without  her?  " 

I  had  no  answer  ready  for  him.  I  knew  that 
in  my  grief  for  Margaret  I  had  been  advocating 
an  unworthy  course,  but  I  would  not  say  so.  I 
went  gloomily  to  the  door,  and  there,  presently, 
his  hand  fell  on  my  shoulder. 

"  Your  advice  came  too  late,  at  any  rate,"  he 
said.  "  You  forget  that  the  precentor  was  on 
the  hill  and  saw  everything." 

It  was  he  who  had  forgotten  to  tell  me 
this,  and  to  me  it  was  the  most  direful  news  of 
all. 

"  My  God  !  "  I  cried.  "  He  will  have  gone  to 
your  mother  and  told  her."  And  straightway 
I   began  to  lace  my  boots. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  he  asked,  staring  at 
me. 

"  To  Thrums,"  I  answered,  harshly. 

"  You  said  that  to  venture  out  into  the  glen  was 
to  court  death,"  he  reminded  me. 

"  What  of  that  ?  "  I  said,  and  hastily  put  on 
my  coat. 


358  The   Little  Minister 

"  Mr,  Ogilvy,"  he- cried,  "  I  will  not  allow  you 
to  do  this  for  me." 

"  For  you  ?  "  1  said,  bitterly.  "  It  is  not  for 
you. 

I  would  have  gone  at  once,  but  he  got  in  front 
of  me,  asking,  "  Did  you  ever  know  my  mother?" 

"  Long  ago,"  I  answered,  shortly,  and  he  said 
no  more,  thinking,  I  suppose,  that  he  knew  all.  He 
limped  to  the  door  with  me,  and  I  had  only  ad- 
vanced a  few  steps  when  I  understood  better  than 
before  what  were  the  dangers  I  was  to  venture  into. 
Since  I  spoke  to  Waster  Lunny  the  river  had 
risen  several  feet,  and  even  the  hillocks  in  his 
turnip  field  were  now  submerged.  The  mist  was 
creeping  down  the  hills.  But  what  warned  me 
most  sharply  that  the  flood  was  not  satisfied  yet 
was  the  top  of  the  schoolhouse  dyke ;  it  was 
lined  with  field-mice.  I  turned  back,  and  Gavin, 
mistaking  my  meaning,  said  I  did  wisely. 

"  I  have  not  changed  my  mind,"  1  told  him, 
and  then  had  some  difficulty  in  continuing.  "  I 
expect,"  I  said,  "  to  reach  Thrums  safely,  even 
though  I  should  be  caught  in  the  mist,  but  I  shall 
have  to  go  round  by  the  Kelpie  brig  in  order  to 
get  across  the  river,  and  it  is  possible  that  —  that 
something  may  befall  me." 

I  have  all  my  life  been  something  of  a  coward, 
and  my  voice  shook  when  I  said  this,  so  that 
Gavin  again  entreated  me  to  remain  at  the 
schoolhouse,  saying  that  if  I  did  not  he  would 
accompany  me. 

"  And  so  increase  my  danger  tenfold  ? "  I 
pointed  out.  "  No,  no,  Mr.  Dishart,  I  go 
alone ;    and  if  I   can  do  nothing  with  the  con- 


The  Glen  at   Break  of  Day  359 

gregation,  I  can  at  least  send  your  mother  word 
that  you  still  live.  But  if  anything  should  hap- 
pen to  me,  I  want  you  —  " 

But  I  could  not  say  what  I  had  come  back  to 
say.  I  had  meant  to  ask  him,  in  the  event  of 
my  death,  to  take  a  hundred  pounds  which  were 
the  savings  of  my  life ;  but  now  I  saw  that  this 
might  lead  to  Margaret's  hearing  of  me,  and  so  I 
stayed  my  words.  It  was  bitter  to  me  this,  and 
yet,  after  all,  a  little  thing  when  put  beside  the 
rest. 

"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Dishart,"  I  said,  abruptly.  I 
then  looked  at  my  desk,  which  contained  some 
trifles  that  were  once  Margaret's.  "  Should  any- 
thing happen  to  me,"  I  said,  "  I  want  that  old 
desk  to  be  destroyed  unopened." 

"  Mr.  Ogilvy,"  he  answered,  gently,  "  you  are 
venturing  this  because  you  loved  my  mother.  If 
anything  does  befall  you,  be  assured  that  I  will 
tell  her  what  you  attempted  for  her  sake." 

I  believe  he  thought  it  was  to  make  some  such 
request  that  I  had  turned  back. 

"  You  must  tell  her  nothing  about  me,"  I 
exclaimed,  in  consternation.  "  Swear  that  my 
name  will  never  cross  your  lips  before  her.  No, 
that  is  not  enough.  You  must  forget  me  utterly 
whether  I  live  or  die,  lest  sometime  you  should 
think  of  me  and  she  should  read  your  thoughts. 
Swear,  man  !  " 

"  Must  this  be  ?  "  he  said,  gazing  at  me. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  niore  calmly,  "  it  must  be. 
For  nearly  a  score  of  years  I  have  been  blotted 
out  of  your  mother's  life,  and  since  she  came  to 
Thrums  my  one  care  has  been  to  keep  my  exist- 


36o 


The  Little  Minister 


ence  from  her.  I  have  changed  my  burying- 
ground  even  from  Thrums  to  the  glen  lest  1 
should  die  before  her,  and  she,  seeing  the  hearse 
go  by  the  Tenements,  might  ask, '  Whose  funeral 
is  this  ? '  " 

In  my  anxiety  to  warn  him,  I  had  said  too 
much.  His  face  grew  haggard,  and "  there  was 
fear  to  speak  on  it ;  and  I  saw,  I  knew,  that 
some  damnable  suspicion  of  Margaret  — 

"  She  was  my  wife  !  "  I  cried,  sharply.  "  We 
were  married  by  the  minister  of  Harvie.  You 
are  my  son." 


CHAPTER   XXXVI 

STORY    OF    THE    DOMINIE 

WHEN  I  spoke  next,  I  was  back  in  the 
schoolhouse,  sitting  there  with  my  bonnet 
on  my  head,  Gavin  looking  at  me.  We  had 
forgotten  the  cannon  at  last. 

In  that  chair  I  had  anticipated  this  scene  more 
than  once  of  late.  I  had  seen  that  a  time  might 
come  when  Gavin  would  have  to  be  told  all,  and 
I  had  even  said  the  words  aloud,  as  if  he  were  in- 
deed opposite  me.  So  now  I  was  only  repeating 
the  tale,  and  I  could  tell  it  without  emotion,  be- 
cause it  was  nigh  nineteen  years  old  ;  and  I  did 
not  look  at  Gavin,  for  I  knew  that  his  manner  of 
taking  it  could  bring  no  change  to  me. 

"  Did  you  never  ask  your  mother,"  I  said,  ad- 
dressing the  fire  rather  than  him,  "  why  you  were 
called  Gavin  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  "  it  was  because  she 
thought  Gavin  a  prettier  name  than  Adam." 

"  No,"  I  said,  slowly,  "  it  was  because  Gavin 
is  my  name.  You  were  called  after  your  father. 
Do  you  not  remember  my  taking  you  one  day  to 
the  shore  at  Harvie  to  see  the  fishermen  carried 
to  their  boats  upon  their  wives'  backs,  that  they 
might  start  dry  on  their  journey  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  had  to  reply.  "  I  remember  the 
women  carrying  the  men  through  the  water  to  the 

361 


362  The  Little   Minister 

boats,  but  I  thought  it  was  my  father  who  —  I 
mean  —  " 

"  I  know  whom  you  mean,"  I  said.  "  That 
was  our  last  day  together,  but  you  were  not  three 
years  old.  Yet  you  remembered  me  when  you 
came  to  Thrums.  You  shake  your  head,  but  it 
is  true.  Between  the  diets  of  worship  that  first 
Sabbath  I  was  introduced  to  you,  and  you  must 
have  had  some  shadowy  recollection  of  my  face,  for 
you  asked,  *  Surely  I  saw  you  in  church  in  the 
forenoon,  Mr.  Ogilvy  ?  '  I  said,  '  Yes,'  but  I 
had  not  been  in  the  church  in  the  forenoon. 
You  have  forgotten  even  that,  and  yet  I  treasured 
it." 

I  could  hear  that  he  was  growing  impatient, 
though  so  far  he  had  been  more  indulgent  than  I 
had  any  right  to  expect. 

"It  can  all  be  put  into  a  sentence,"  I  said, 
calmly.  "  Margaret  married  Adam  Dishart,  and 
afterwards,  believing  herself  a  widow,  she  married 
me.  You  were  born,  and  then  Adam  Dishart 
came  back." 

That  is  my  whole  story,  and  here  was  I  telling 
it  to  my  son,  and  not  a  tear  between  us.  It 
ended  abruptly,  and  I  fell  to  mending  the  fire. 

"  When  I  knew  your  mother  first,"  I  went  on, 
after  Gavin  had  said  some  boyish  things  that  were 
of  no  avail  to  me,  "  I  did  not  think  to  end  my 
days  as  a  dominie.  I  was  a  student  at  Aberdeen, 
with  the  ministry  in  my  eye,  and  sometimes  on 
Saturdays  I  walked  forty  miles  to  Harvie  to  go 
to  church  with  her.  She  had  another  lover, 
Adam  Dishart,  a  sailor  turned  fisherman ;  and 
while  I  lingered  at  corners,  wondering  if  I  could 


Story  of  the   Dominie  ^^3 

dare  to  meet  her  and  her  mother  on  their  way  to 
church,  he  would  walk  past  with  them.  He  was 
accompanied  always  by  a  lanky  black  dog,  which 
he  had  brought  from  a  foreign  country.  He 
never  signed  for  any  ship  without  first  getting  per- 
mission to  take  it  with  him,  and  in  Harvie  they 
said  it  did  not  know  the  language  of  the  native 
dogs.  I  have  never  known  a  man  and  dog  so 
attached  to  each  other." 

"  I  remember  that  black  dog,"  Gavin  said.  "  I 
have  spoken  of  it  to  my  mother,  and  she  shud- 
dered, as  if  it  had  once  bitten  her." 

"  While  Adam  strutted  by  with  them,"  I  con- 
tinued, "  I  would  hang  back,  raging  at  his  assur- 
ance or  my  own  timidity  ;  but  I  lost  my  next 
chance  in  the  same  way.  In  Margaret's  presence 
something  came  over  me,  a  kind  of  dryness  in 
the  throat  that  made  me  dumb.  I  have  known 
divinity  students  stricken  in  the  same  way,  just  as 
they  were  giving  out  their  first  text.  It  is  no  aid 
in  getting  a  kirk  or  wooing  a  woman. 

"If  any  one  in  Harvie  recalls  me  now,  it  is  as 
a  hobbledehoy  who  strode  along  the  cliffs,  shout- 
ing Homer  at  the  sea-mews.  With  all  my  learn- 
ing, I,  who  gave  Margaret  the  name  of  Lalage, 
understood  women  less  than  any  fisherman  who 
bandied  words  with  them  across  a  boat.  I  re- 
member a  Yule  night  when  both  Adam  and  I 
were  at  her  mother's  cottage,  and  as  we  were 
leaving,  he  had  the  audacity  to  kiss  Margaret. 
She  ran  out  of  the  room,  and  Adam  swaggered 
off,  and,  when  I  recovered  from  my  horror,  I 
apologised  for  what  he  had  done.  I  shall  never 
forget   how  her  mother  looked  at  me,  and  said, 


364  1  he  Little  Minister 

'  Ay,  Gavin,  1  see  they  dinna  teach  everything 
at  Aberdeen.'  You  will  not  believe  it,  but  I 
walked  away  doubting  her  meaning,  I  thought 
more  of  scholarship  then  than  I  do  now.  Adam 
Dishart  taught  me  its  proper  place, 

"  Well,  that  is  the  dull  man  I  was ;  and  yet, 
though  Adam  was  always  saying  and  doing  the 
things  I  was  making  up  my  mind  to  say  and  do,  I 
think  Margaret  cared  more  for  me.  Nevertheless, 
there  was  something  about  him  that  all  women 
seemed  to  find  lovable,  a  dash  that  made  them 
send  him  away,  and  then  well-nigh  run  after  him. 
At  any  rate,  1  could  have  got  her  after  her 
mother's  death  if  I  had  been  half  a  man.  But 
I  went  back  to  Aberdeen  to  write  a  poem  about 
her,  and  while  I  was  at  it  Adam  married  her." 

I  opened  my  desk,  and  took  from  it  a  yellow 
manuscript. 

"  Here,"  I  said,  "  is  the  poem.  You  see,  I 
never  finished  it." 

I  was  fingering  the  thing  grimly  when  Gavin's 
eye  fell  on  something  else  in  the  desk.  It  was 
an  ungainly  clasp-knife,  as  rusty  as  if  it  had  spent 
a  winter  beneath  a  hedge. 

"  I  seem  to  remember  that  knife,"  he  said. 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  "you  should  remember 
it.  Well,  after  three  months  Adam  tired  of  his 
wife." 

I  stopped  again.  This  was  a  story  in  which 
only  the  pauses  were  eloquent. 

"  Perhaps  I  have  no  right  to  say  he  tired  of 
her.  One  day,  however,  he  sauntered  away  from 
Harvie  whistling,  his  dog  at  his  heels  as  ever, 
and  was    not    seen    again    for    nearly   six    years. 


Story  of  the   Dominie  ^^5 

When  I  heard  of  his  disappearance  I  packed  my 
books  in  that  kist,  and  went  to  Harvie,  where  I 
opened  a  school.  You  see,  every  one  but  Mar- 
garet believed  that  Adam  had  fallen  over  the 
cliffs  and  been  drowned." 

"  But  the  dog  ?  "  said  Gavin. 

"  We  were  all  sure  that,  if  he  had  fallen  over, 
it  had  jumped  after  him.  The  fisher-folk  said 
that  he  could  have  left  his  shadow  behind  as 
easily  as  it.  Yet  Margaret  thought  for  long  that 
he  had  tired  of  Harvie  merely  and  gone  back  to 
sea,  and  not  until  two  years  had  passed  would 
she  marry  me.  We  lived  in  Adam's  house.  It 
was  so  near  the  little  school  that  when  I  opened 
the  window  in  summer-time  she  could  hear  the 
drone  of  our  voices.  During  the  weeks  before 
you  were  born  I  kept  that  window  open  all  day 
long,  and  often  I  went  to  it  and  waved  my  hand 
to  her. 

"  Sometimes,  when  she  was  washing  or  baking, 
I  brought  you  to  the  school.  The  only  quarrel 
she  and  I  ever  had  was  about  my  teaching  you 
the  Lord's  Prayer  in  Greek  as  soon  as  you  could 
say  father  and  mother.  It  was  to  be  a  surprise 
for  her  on  your  second  birthday.  On  that  day, 
while  she  was  ironing,  you  took  hold  of  her 
gown  to  steady  yourself,  and  began,  *  ndrep  i^^v  6 
Iv  zoTg  ovpavoli,','  and  to  me,  behind  the  door,  it  was 
music.  But  at  ayiuadijia,  of  which  you  made  two 
syllables,  you  cried,  and  Margaret  snatched  you 
up,  thinking  this  was  some  new  ailment.  After 
I  had  explained  to  her  that  it  was  the  Lord's 
Prayer  in  Greek,  she  would  let  me  take  you  to 
the  schoolhouse  no  more. 


366  The   Little   Minister 

"  Not  much  longer  could  I  have  taken  you  in 
any  case,  for  already  we  are  at  the  day  when 
Adam  Dishart  came  back.  It  was  the  seventh 
of  September,  and  all  the  week  most  of  the 
women  in  Harvie  had  been  setting  off  at  dawn  to 
the  harvest  fields  and  straggling  home  at  nights, 
merry  and  with  yellow  corn  in  their  hair.  I  had 
sat  on  in  the  schoolhouse  that  day  after  my 
pupils  were  gone.  I  still  meant  to  be  a  minister, 
and  I  was  studying  Hebrew,  and  so  absorbed  in 
my  book  that,  as  the  daylight  went,  I  followed  it 
step  by  step  as  far  as  my  window,  and  there  I 
read,  without  knowing,  until  I  chanced  to  look 
up,  that  I  had  left  my  desk.  I  have  not  opened 
that  book  since, 

"  From  the  window  I  saw  you  on  the  w^aste 
ground  that  separated  the  school  from  our  home. 
You  w^ere  coming  to  me  on  your  hands  and  feet, 
and  stopping  now  and  again  to  look  back  at  your 
mother,  who  was  at  the  door,  laughing  and  shak- 
ing her  fist  at  you.  I  beckoned  to  you,  and  took 
the  book  back  to  my  desk  to  lock  it  up.  While 
my  head  was  inside  the  desk  I  heard  the  school- 
house  door  pushed  open,  and  thinking  it  was  you 
I  smiled,  without  looking  up.  Then  something 
touched  my  hand,  and  I  still  thought  it  was  you  ; 
but  I  looked  down,  and  I  saw  Adam  Dishart's 
black  dog. 

"  I  did  not  move.  It  looked  up  at  me  and 
wagged  its  tail.  Then  it  drew  back,  —  I  suppose 
because  I  had  no  words  for  it.  I  watched  it  run 
half  round  the  room  and  stop  and  look  at  me 
again.     Then  it  slunk  out. 

"  All  that  time  one  of  my  hands  had  been  hold- 


Story  of  the  Dominie  367 

ing  the  desk  open.  Now  the  lid  fell.  I  put  on 
my  bonnet  and  went  to  the  door.  You  were 
only  a  few  yards  away,  with  flowers  in  your  fist. 
Margaret  was  laughing  still.  I  walked  round  the 
school  and  there  was  no  dog  visible.  Margaret 
nodded  to  me,  meaning  that  I  should  bring  you 
home.  You  thrust  the  flowers  into  my  hand, 
but  they  fell.      I  stood  there,  dazed. 

"  I  think  I  walked  with  you  some  way  across 
the  waste  ground.  Then  I  dropped  your  hand 
and  strode  back  to  the  school.  I  went  down  on 
my  knees,  looking  for  marks  of  a  dog's  paws,  and 
I  found  them. 

"  When  I  came  out  again  your  mother  was  no 
longer  at  our  door,  and  you  were  crying  because 
I  had  left  you.  I  passed  you  and  walked  straight 
to  the  house.  Margaret  was  skinning  rushes  for 
wicks.  There  must  have  been  fear  in  my  face, 
for  as  soon  as  she  saw  it  she  ran  to  the  door  to 
see  if  you  were  still  alive.  She  brought  you  in 
with  her,  and  so  had  strength  to  cry, '  What  is  it  ^ 
Speak  !  ' 

"  '  Come  away,'  I  said,  '  come  away,'  and  I  was 
drawing  her  to  the  door,  but  she  pressed  me  into 
a  chair.      I  was  up  again  at  once. 

"  *  Margaret,'  I  said,  '  ask  no  questions.  Put 
on  your  bonnet,  give  me  the  boy,  and  let  us 
away.' 

"  I  could  not  take  my  eyes  off  the  door,  and 
she  was  walking  to  it  to  look  out  when  I  barred 
the  way  with  my  arm. 

"  '  What  h^ve  you  seen  ? '  she  cried  ;  and  then, 
as  I  only  pointed  to  her  bonnet,  she  turned  to 
you,  and  you  said,  '  Was  it  the  black  dog,  father  ?  * 


368  The   Little   Minister 

"  Gavin,  then  she  knew ;  and  I  stood  helpless 
and  watched  my  wife  grow  old.  In  that  moment 
she  lost  the  sprightliness  I  loved  the  more  be- 
cause I  had  none  of  it  myself,  and  the  bloom 
went  from  her  face  never  to  return. 

" '  He  has  come  back,'  she  said. 

"  I  told  her  what  I  had  seen,  and  while  I  spoke 
she  put  on  her  bonnet,  and  I  exulted,  thinking 
—  and  then  she  took  off  her  bonnet,  and  I  knew 
she  would  not  go  away  with  me. 

" '  Margaret,'  I  cried,  '  I  am  that  bairn's 
father.' 

"  '  Adam's  my  man,'  she  said,  and  at  that  I 
gave  her  a  look  for  which  God  might  have  struck 
me  dead.  But  instead  of  blaming  me  she  put  her 
arms  round  my  neck. 

"  After  that  we  said  very  little.  We  sat  at 
opposite  sides  of  the  fire,  waiting  for  him,  and 
you  played  on  the  floor.  The  harvesters  trooped 
by,  and  there  was  a  fiddle ;  and  when  it  stopped, 
long  stillness,  and  then  a  step.  It  was  not  Adam. 
You  fell  asleep,  and  we  could  hear  nothing  but 
the  sea.     There  was  a  harvest  moon. 

"  Once  a  dog  ran  past  the  door,  and  we  both 
rose.  Margaret  pressed  her  hands  on  her  breast. 
Sometimes  she  looked  furtively  at  me,  and  I 
knew  her  thoughts.  To  me  it  was  only  misery 
that  had  come,  but  to  her  it  was  shame,  so  that 
when  you  woke  and  climbed  into  her  lap  she  shiv- 
ered at  your  touch.  I  could  not  look  at  her  after 
that,  for  there  was  a  horror  of  me  growing  in  her 
face. 

"  Ten  o'clock  struck,  and  then  again  there  was 
no  sound  but  the  sea  pouring  itself  out  on  the 


I 


Story  of  the   Dominie  369 

beach.  It  was  long  after  this,  when  to  me  there 
was  still  no  other  sound,  that  Margaret  screamed, 
and  you  hid  behind  her.     Then  I  heard  it. 

" '  Gavin,'  Margaret  said  to  me,  '  be  a  good 
man  all  your  life.' 

"  It  was  louder  now,  and  then  it  stopped. 
Above  the  wash  of  the  sea  we  heard  another 
sound,  —  a  sharp  tap,  tap.  You  said,  'I  know 
what  sound  that  is ;  it's  a  man  knocking  the 
ashes  out  of  his   pipe  against  his  boot.' 

"  Then  the  dog  pushed  the  door  off  the  latch, 
and  Adam  lurched  in.  He  was  not  drunk,  but 
he  brought  the  smell  of  drink  into  the  room  with 
him.  He  was  grinning  like  one  bringing  rare 
news,  and  before  she  could  shrink  back  or  I 
could  strike  him   he  had   Margaret  in  his  arms. 

" '  Lord,  lass,'  he  said,  with  many  jovial  oaths, 

*  to  think  I'm  back  again  !  There,  she's  swounded. 
What  folks  be  women,  to  be  sure.' 

"  *  We  thought  you  were  dead,  Adam,'  she  said, 
coming  to. 

"  '  Bless  your  blue  eyes,'  he  answered,  gleefully; 

*  often  I  says  to  myself,  "  Meggy  will  be  thinking 
I'm  with  the  fishes,"  and  then  I  chuckles.' 

"  '  Where  have  you  been  all  this  time  ^ '  I  de- 
manded, sternly. 

" '  Gavin,'  he  said,  effusively,  '  your  hand. 
And  don't  look  so  feared,  man  ;  I  bear  no 
malice  for  what  you've  done.  I  heard  all  about 
it  at  the  Cross  Anchors.' 

" '  Where  have  you  been  these  five  years  and  a 
half? '  I  repeated. 

" '  Where  have  I  no  been,  lad .? '  he  replied. 

"  '  At  Harvie,'  I  said. 


370  The  Little  Minister 

" '  Right  you  are,'  said  he,  good-naturedly. 
'  Meggie,  I  had  no  intention  of  leaving  you  that 
day,  though  I  was  yawning  myself  to  death  in 
Harvie ;  but  I  sees  a  whaler,  and  I  thinks, 
"That's  a  tidy  boat,  and  I'm  a  tidy  man,  and 
if  they'll  take  me  and  the  dog,  off  we  go."  ' 

"  *  You  never  wrote  to  me,'  Margaret  said. 

" '  I  meant  to  send  you  some  scrapes,'  he  an- 
swered, '  but  it  wasna  till  I  changed  ships  that  I 
had  the  chance,  and  then  I  minds,  "  Meggy  kens 
I'm  no  hand  with  the  pen."  But  I  swear  I  often 
thought  of  you,  lass ;  and  look  you  here,  that's 
better  than  letters,  and  so  is  that,  and  every 
penny  of  it  is  yours.' 

"He  flung  two  bags  of  gold  upon  the  table, 
and  their  chink  brought  you  out  from  behind 
your  mother. 

"  '  Hallo  !  '  Adam  cried. 

"  '  He  is  mine,'  I  said.  '  Gavin,  come  here.' 
But  Margaret  held  you  back. 

"  '  Here's  a  go,'  Adam  muttered,  and  scratched 
his  head.  Then  he  slapped  his  thigh.  '  Gavin,' 
he  said,  in  his  friendliest  way, '  we'll  toss  for  him.' 

"  He  pulled  the  knife  that  is  now  in  my  desk 
from  his  pocket,  spat  on  it,  and  flung  it  up. 
*  Dry,  the  kid's  ours,  Meggy,'  he  explained ; 
'  wet,  he  goes  to  Gavin.'  1  clinched  my  fist 
to —  But  what  was  the  use?  He  caught  the 
knife,  and  showed  it  to  me. 

"  *  Dry,'  he  said,  triumphantly  ;  '  so  he  is  ours, 
Meggy.  Kiddy,  catch  the  knife.  It  is  yours; 
and,  mind,  you  have  changed  dads.  And  now 
that  we  have  settled  that,  Gavin,  there's  my 
hand  aeain.' 


Story  of  the  Dominie  371 

"  I  went  away  and  left  them,  and  I  never  saw 
Margaret  again  until  the  day  you  brought  her  to 
Thrums.  But  I  saw  you  once,  a  few  days  after 
Adam  came  back.  I  was  in  the  schoolhouse, 
packing  my  books,  and  you  were  playing  on  the 
waste  ground.  I  asked  you  how  your  mother 
was,  and  you  said,  '  She's  fleid  to  come  to  the 
door  till  you  gang  awa,  and  my  father's  buying  a 
boat.' 

"'  I'm  your  father,'  I  said;  but  you  answered, 
confidently  : 

"  *  You're  no  a  living  man.  You're  just  a  man 
I  dreamed  about ;  and  I  promised  my  mother  no 
to  dream  about  you  again.' 

" '  I  am  your  father,'  I  repeated. 

"  *  My  father's  awa  buying  a  fishing-boat,'  you 
insisted ;  '  and  when  I  speir  at  my  mother  whaur 
my  first  father  is,  she  says  I'm  havering.' 

"  '  Gavin  Ogilvy  is  your  name,'  I  said,  '  No,' 
you  answered, '  I  have  a  new  name.  My  mother 
telled  me  my  name  is  aye  to  be  Gavin  Dishart 
now.  She  telled  me,  too,  to  fling  awa  this  knife 
my  father  gave  me,  and  I've  flung  it  awa  a  lot  o' 
times,  but  I  aye  pick  it  up  again.' 

"  '  Give  it  to  me,'  I  said,  with  the  wicked 
thoughts  of  a  fool  in  my  head. 

"  That  is  how  your  knife  came  into  my  posses- 
sion. I  left  Harvie  that  night  in  the  carrier's 
cart,  but  I  had  not  the  heart  to  return  to  col- 
lege. Accident  brought  me  here,  and  I  thought 
it  a  fitting  place  in  which  to  bury  myself  from 
Margaret." 


CHAPTER   XXXVII 

SECOND    JOURNEY    OF    THE    DOMINIE    TO    THRUMS 
DURING    THE    TWENTY-FOUR    HOURS. 

HERE  was  a  nauseous  draught  for  me. 
Having  finished  my  tale,  I  turned  to 
Gavin  for  sympathy ;  and,  behold,  he  had  been 
listening  for  the  cannon,  instead  of  to  my  final 
words.  So,  like  an  old  woman  at  her  hearth,  we 
warm  our  hands  at  our  sorrows  and  drop  in  fag- 
ots, and  each  thinks  his  own  fire  a  sun,  in 
presence  of  which  all  other  fires  should  go  out. 
I  was  soured  to  see  Gavin  prove  this,  and  then  I 
could  have  laughed  without  mirth,  for  had  not 
my  bitterness  proved  it,  too  ^ 

"And  now,"  I  said,  rising,  "  whether  Margaret 
is  to  hold  up  her  head  henceforth  hes  no  longer 
with  me,  but  with  you." 

It  was  not  to  that  he  replied. 

"  You  have  suffered  long,  Mr.  Ogilvy,"  he 
said.  "  Father,"  he  added,  wringing  my  hand. 
I  called  him  son  ;  but  it  was  only  an  exchange 
of  musty  words  that  we  had  found  too  late.  A 
father  is  a  poor  estate  to  come  into  at  two  and 
twenty. 

"  I  should  have  been  told  of  this,"  he  said. 

"  Your  mother  did  right,  sir,"  I  answered, 
slowly,  but  he  shook   his  head. 

"  I  think  you  have  misjudged  her,"  he  said. 
372 


Second  Journey   to  Thrums  373 

*  Doubtless  while  my  fa — ,  while  Adam  Dishart 
lived,  she  could  only  think  of  you  with  pain  ; 
but  after  his  death  —  " 

"  After  his  death,"  I  said,  quietly,  "  I  was  still 
so  horrible  to  her  that  she  left  Harvie  without 
letting  a  soul  know  whither  she  was  bound.  She 
dreaded  my  following  her." 

"  Stranger  to  me,"  he  said,  after  a  pause,  "  than 
even  your  story  is  her  being  able  to  keep  it  from 
me.  I  believed  no  thought  ever  crossed  her 
mind  that  she  did  not  let  me  share." 

"  And  none,  I  am  sure,  ever  did,"  I  answered, 
"  save  that,  and  such  thoughts  as  a  woman  has 
with  God  only.  It  was  my  lot  to  bring  disgrace 
on  her.  She  thought  it  nothing  less,  and  she  has 
hidden  it  all  these  years  for  your  sake,  until  now 
it  is  not  burdensome.  I  suppose  she  feels  that 
God  has  taken  the  weight  off  her.  Now  you  are 
to  put  a  heavier  burden  in  its  place." 

He  faced  me  boldly,  and  I  admire  him  for 
it  now. 

"  I  cannot  admit,"  he  said,  "  that  I  did  wrong  in 
forgetting  my  mother  for  that  fateful  quarter  of  an 
hour.  Babbie  and  I  loved  each  other,  and  I  was 
given  the  opportunity  of  making  her  mine  or 
losing  her  for  ever.  Have  you  forgotten  that  all 
this  tragedy  you  have  told  me  of  only  grew  out 
of  your  own  indecision  ?  I  took  the  chance  that 
you  let  slip  by." 

"  I  had  not  forgotten,"  I  replied.  "  What  else 
made  me  tell  you  last  night  that  Babbie  was  in 
Nanny's  house  ?  " 

"  But  now  you  are  afraid,  —  now  when  the 
deed  is  done,  when  for  me  there  can  be  no  turn- 


374  The  Little  Minister 

ing  back.  Whatever  be  the  issue,  I  should  be  a 
cur  to  return  to  Thrums  without  my  wife.  Every 
minute  I  feel  my  strength  returning,  and  before 
you  reach  Thrums  I  will  have  set  out  to  the 
Spittal." 

There  was  nothing  to  say  after  that.  He  came 
with  me  in  the  rain  as  far  as  the  dyke,  warning  me 
against  telling  his  people  what  was  not  true. 

"  My  first  part,"  I  answered,  "  will  be  to  send 
word  to  your  mother  that  you  are  in  safety. 
After  that  I  must  see  Whamond.  Much  depends 
on  him." 

"  You  will  not  go  to  my  mother  ?  " 

"  Not  so  long  as  she  has  a  roof  over  her  head," 
I  said,  "  but  that  may  not  be  for  long." 

So,  I  think,  we  parted,  —  each  soon  to  forget 
the  other  in  a  woman. 

But  I  had  not  gone  far  when  I  heard  some- 
thing that  stopped  me  as  sharply  as  if  it  had 
been  McKenzie's  hand  once  more  on  my  shoul- 
der. For  a  second  the  noise  appalled  me,  and 
then,  before  the  echo  began,  1  knew  it  must  be 
the  Spittal  cannon.  My  only  thought  was  one 
of  thankfulness.  Now  Gavin  must  see  the  wis- 
dom of  my  reasoning.  I  would  wait  for  him 
until  he  was  able  to  come  with  me  to  Thrums. 
I  turned  back,  and  in  my  haste  I  ran  through 
water  I    had  gone  round  before. 

I  was  too  late.  He  was  gone,  and  into  the 
rain  I  shouted  his  name  in  vain.  That  he  had 
started  for  the  Spittal  there  could  be  no  doubt ; 
that  he  would  ever  reach  it  was  less  certain.  The 
earl's  collie  was  still  crouching  by  the  fire,  and, 
thinking  it  might  be  a  guide  to  him,  I  drove  the 


Second  Journey  to  Thrums  375 

brute  to  the  door,  and  chased  it  in  the  direction 
he  probably  had  taken.  Not  until  it  had  run 
from  me  did  I  resume  my  own  journey.  I  do 
not  need  to  be  told  that  you  who  read  would  fol- 
low Gavin  now  rather  than  me  ;  but  you  must 
bear  with  the  dominie  for  a  little  while  yet,  as  I 
see  no  other  way  of  making  things  clear. 

In  some  ways  I  was  not  ill  equipped  for  my 
attempt.  I  do  not  know  any  one  of  our  hillsides 
as  it  is  known  to  the  shepherd,  to  whom  every 
rabbit-hole  and  glimmer  of  mica  is  a  landmark  ; 
but  he,  like  his  flock,  has  only  to  cross  a  dyke  to 
find  himself  in  a  strange  land,  while  I  have  been 
everywhere  in  the  glen. 

In  the  foreground  the  rain  slanted,  transparent 
till  it  reached  the  ground,  where  a  mist  seemed  to 
blow  it  along  as  wind  ruffles  grass.  In  the  dis- 
tance all  was  a  driving  mist.  I  have  been  out  for 
perhaps  an  hour  in  rains  as  wetting,  and  I  have 
watched  floods  from  my  window,  but  never  since 
have  I  known  the  fifth  part  of  a  season's  rainfall 
in  eighteen  hours  ;  and  if  there  should  be  the  like 
here  again,  we  shall  be  found  better  prepared  for 
it.  Men  have  been  lost  in  the  glen  in  mists  so 
thick  that  they  could  plunge  their  fingers  out  of 
sight  in  it  as  into  a  meal  girnel ;  but  this  mist 
never  came  within  twenty  yards  of  me.  I  was 
surrounded  by  it,  however,  as  if  I  was  in  a  round 
tent ;  and  out  of  this  tent  I  could  not  walk,  for  it 
advanced  with  me.  On  the  other  side  of  this 
screen  were  horrible  noises,  at  whose  cause  I 
could  only  guess,  save  now  and  again  when  a 
tongue  of  water  was  shot  at  my  feet,  or  great 
Stones  came  crashing  through  the  canvas  of  mist. 


376  The  Little  Minister 

Then  I  ran  wherever  safety  prompted,  and  thus 
tangled  my  bearings  until  I  was  like  that  one  in 
the  child's  game  who  is  blindfolded  and  turned 
round  three  times  that  he  may  not  know  east 
from  west. 

Once  I  stumbled  over  a  dead  sheep  and  a 
living  lamb ;  and  in  a  clump  of  trees  which 
puzzled  me  —  for  they  were  where  I  thought  no 
trees  should  be  —  a  wood-pigeon  flew  to  me,  but 
struck  my  breast  with  such  force  that  I  picked  it 
up  dead.  I  saw  no  other  living  thing,  though 
half  a  dozen  times  I  must  have  passed  within  cry 
of  farmhouses.  At  one  time  I  was  in  a  corn  field, 
where  I  had  to  lift  my  hands  to  keep  them  out 
of  water,  and  a  dread  filled  me  that  I  had  wan- 
dered in  a  circle,  and  was  still  on  Waster  Lunny's 
land.  I  plucked  some  corn  and  held  it  to  my 
eyes  to  see  if  it  was  green ;  but  it  was  yellow,  and 
so  I  knew  that  at  last  I  was  out  of  the  glen. 

People  up  here  will  complain  if  I  do  not  tell 
how  I  found  the  farmer  of  Green  Brae's  fifty 
pounds.  It  is  one  of  the  best-remembered  inci- 
dents of  the  flood,  and  happened  shortly  after  I 
got  out  of  the  corn  field.  A  house  rose  suddenly 
before  me,  and  I  was  hastening  to  it  when  as 
suddenly  three  of  its  walls  fell.  Before  my  mind 
could  give  a  meaning  to  what  my  eyes  told  it,  the 
water  that  had  brought  down  the  house  had  lifted 
me  off  my  feet  and  flung  me  among  waves. 
That  would  have  been  the  last  of  the  dominie 
had  I  not  struck  against  a  chest,  then  half  way  on 
its  voyage  to  the  sea.  I  think  the  lid  gave  way 
under  me ;  but  that  is  surmise,  for  from  the  time 
the  house  fell  till  I  was  on  the  river  in  a  kist  that 


Second  Journey  to  Thrums  377 

was  like  to  be  my  coffin,  is  almost  a  blank.  After 
what  may  have  been  but  a  short  journey,  though 
I  had  time  in  it  to  say  my  prayers  twice,  we 
stopped,  jammed  among  fallen  trees ;  and  seeing 
a  bank  within  reach,  1  tried  to  creep  up  it.  In 
this  there  would  have  been  little  difficulty  had 
not  the  contents  of  the  kist  caught  in  my  feet 
and  held  on  to  them,  like  living  things  afraid  of 
being  left  behind.  I  let  down  my  hands  to  dis- 
entangle my  feet,  but  failed;  and  then,  grown 
desperate,  I  succeeded  in  reaching  firm  ground, 
dragging  I  knew  not  what  after  me.  It  proved 
to  be  a  pillow-slip.  Green  Brae  still  shudders 
when  I  tell  him  that  my  first  impulse  was  to 
leave  the  pillow  slip  unopened.  However,  I 
ripped  it  up,  for  to  undo  the  wet  strings  that 
had  ravelled  round  my  feet  would  have  wearied 
even  a  man  with  a  needle  to  pick  open  the 
knots ;  and  among  broken  gimlets,  the  head  of 
a  grape,  and  other  things  no  beggar  would  have 
stolen,  I  found  a  tin  canister  containing  fifty 
pounds.  Waster  Lunny  says  that  this  should 
have  made  a  religious  man  of  Green  Brae,  and 
it  did  to  this  extent,  that  he  called  the  fall  of  the 
cotter's  house  providential.  Otherwise,  the  cotter, 
at  whose  expense  it  may  be  said  the  money  was 
found,  remains  the  more  religious  man  of  the 
two. 

At  last  I  came  to  the  Kelpie's  brig,  and  I 
could  have  wept  in  joy  (and  might  have  been 
better  employed),  when,  like  everything  I  saw  on 
that  journey,  it  broke  suddenly  through  the  mist, 
and  seemed  to  run  at  me  like  a  living  monster. 
Next  moment  I  ran  back,  for  as  I  stepped  upon 


378  The  Little  Minister 

the  bridge  I  saw  that  I  had  been  about  to  walk 
into  the  air.  What  was  left  of  the  Kelpie's  brig 
ended  in  mid-stream.  Instead  of  thanking  God 
for  the  light  without  which  I  should  have  gone 
abruptly  to  my  death,  I  sat  down,  miserable  and 
hopeless. 

Presently  I  was  up  and  trudging  to  the  Loups 
of  Malcolm.  At  the  Loups  the  river  runs  nar- 
row and  deep  between  cliffs,  and  the  spot  is  so 
called  because  one  Malcolm  jumped  across  it 
when  pursued  by  wolves.  Next  day  he  returned 
boastfully  to  look  at  his  jump,  and  gazing  at  it 
turned  dizzy  and  fell  into  the  river.  Since  that 
time  chains  have  been  hung  across  the  Loups  to 
reduce  the  distance  between  the  farms  of  Car- 
whimple  and  Keep-What-You-Can  from  a  mile 
to  a  hundred  yards.  You  must  cross  the  chains 
on  your  breast.  They  were  suspended  there  by 
Rob  Angus,  who  was  also  the  first  to  breast  them. 

But  I  never  was  a  Rob  Angus.  When  my 
pupils  practise  what  they  call  the  high  jump,  two 
small  boys  hold  a  string  aloft,  and  the  bigger  ones 
run  at  it  gallantly  until  they  reach  it,  when  they 
stop  meekly  and  creep  beneath.  They  will  re- 
peat this  twenty  times,  and  yet  never,  when  they 
start  for  the  string,  seem  to  know  where  their 
courage  will  fail.  Nay,  they  will  even  order  the 
small  boys  to  hold  the  string  higher.  I  have 
smiled  at  this,  but  it  was  the  same  courage  while 
the  difficulty  is  far  off  that  took  me  to  the  Loups. 
At  sight  of  them  I  turned  away. 

I  prayed  to  God  for  a  little  of  the  mettle  of 
other  men,  and  He  heard  me,  for  with  my  eyes 
shut  I  seemed  to  see  Margaret  beckoning  from 


Second  Journey  to  Thrums  379 

across  the  abyss  as  if  she  had  need  of  me.  Then 
I  rose  calmly  and  tested  the  chains,  and  crossed 
them  on  my  breast.  Many  have  done  it  with 
the  same  danger,  at  which  they  laugh,  but  with- 
out that  vision  I  should  have  held  back. 

I  was  now  across  the  river,  and  so  had  left  the 
chance  of  drowning  behind,  but  I  was  farther  from 
Thrums  than  when  I  left  the  schoolhouse,  and 
this  country-side  was  almost  unknown  to  me. 
The  mist  had  begun  to  clear,  so  that  I  no  longer 
wandered  into  fields  ;  but  though  I  kept  to  the 
roads,  I  could  not  tell  that  they  led  towards 
Thrums,  and  in  my  exhaustion  I  had  often  to 
stand  still.  Then  to  make  a  new  start  in  the 
mud  was  like  pulling  stakes  out  of  the  ground. 
So  long  as  the  rain  faced  me  I  thought  I  could 
not  be  straying  far ;  but  after  an  hour  I  lost  this 
guide,  for  a  wind  rose  that  blew  it  in  all  directions. 

In  another  hour,  when  I  should  have  been 
drawing  near  Thrums,  I  found  myself  in  a  wood, 
and  here  I  think  my  distress  was  greatest ;  nor  is 
this  to  be  marvelled  at,  for,  instead  of  being  near 
Thrums,  I  was  listening  to  the  monotonous  roar 
of  the  sea.  I  was  too  spent  to  reason,  but  I 
knew  that  I  must  have  travelled  direct  east,  and 
must  be  close  to  the  German  Ocean.  I  remem- 
ber putting  my  back  against  a  tree  and  shutting 
my  eyes,  and  listening  to  the  lash  of  the  waves 
against  the  beach,  and  hearing  the  faint  toll  of  a 
bell,  and  wondering  listlessly  on  what  lighthouse 
it  was  ringing.  Doubtless  I  would  have  lain 
down  to  sleep  for  ever  had  I  not  heard  another 
sound  near  at  hand.  It  was  the  knock  of  a 
hammer  on  wood,  and  might  have  been  a  fisher- 


380  The  Little  Minister 

man  mending  his  boat.  The  instinct  of  self- 
preservation  carried  me  to  it,  and  presently  I  was 
at  a  little  house.  A  man  was  standing  in  the 
rain  hammering  new  hinges  to  the  door ;  and 
though  I  did  not  recognise  him,  I  saw  with 
bewilderment  that  the  woman  at  his  side  was 
Nanny. 

"  It's  the  dominie,"  she  cried,  and  her  brother 
added : 

"  Losh,  sir,  you  hinna  the  look  o*  a  living 
man." 

"  Nanny,"  I  said,  in  perplexity,  "  what  are  you 
doing  here  ?  " 

"  Whaur  else  should  I  be  ?  "  she  asked. 

I  pressed  my  hands  over  my  eyes,  crying, 
"Where  am  I?" 

Nanny  shrank  from  me,  but  Sanders  said, 
"  Has  the  rain  driven  you  gyte,  man  ?  You're 
in  Thrums." 

"  But  the  sea,"  I  said,  distrusting  him.  "  I 
hear  it.      Listen  !  " 

"That's  the  wind  in  Windyghoul,"  Sanders 
answered,  looking  at  me  queerly.  "  Come  awa 
into  the  house." 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII 

THRUMS     DURING    THE    TWENTY  -  FOUR     HOURS 

DEFENCE    OF    THE    MANSE 

HARDLY  had  I  crossed  the  threshold  of 
the  mud  house  when  such  a  sickness  came 
over  me  that  I  could  not  have  looked  up,  though 
Nanny's  voice  had  suddenly  changed  to  Mar- 
garet's. Vaguely  I  knew  that  Nanny  had  put 
the  kettle  on  the  fire,  —  a  woman's  first  thought 
when  there  is  illness  in  the  house,  —  and  as  I  sat 
with  my  hands  over  my  face  I  heard  the  water 
dripping  from  my  clothes  to  the  floor. 

"  Why  is  that  bell  ringing  ?  "  I  asked,  at  last, 
ignoring  all  questions  and  speaking  through  my 
fingers.  An  artist,  I  suppose,  could  paint  all  ex- 
pression out  of  a  human  face.  The  sickness  was 
having  that  effect  on  my  voice. 

"  It's  the  Auld  Licht  bell,"  Sanders  said  ;  "  and 
it's  almost  as  fearsome  to  listen  to  as  last  nicht's 
rain.     I  wish  I  kent  what  they're  ringing  it  for." 

"  Wish  no  sic  things,"  said  Nanny,  nervously. 
"  There's  things  it's  best  to  put  off  kenning  as 
lang  as  we  can." 

"  It's  that  ill-cleakit  witch,  Effie  McBean, 
that  makes  Nanny  speak  so  doleful,"  Sanders 
told  me.  "  There  was  to  be  a  prayer-meeting 
last    nicht,    but   Mr.    Dishart    never   came    to't, 

381 


382  The  Little  Minister 

though  they  rang  till  they  wraxed  their  arms  ;  and 
now  Effie  says  it'll  ring  on  by  itsel'  till  he's  brocht 
hame  a  corp.  The  hellicat  says  the  rain's  a  dis- 
pensation to  drown  him  in  for  neglect  o'  duty. 
Sal,  I  would  think  little  o'  the  Lord  if  He  needed 
to  create  a  new  sea  to  drown  one  man  in.  Nanny, 
you  cuttie,  that's  no  swearing ;  I  defy  you  to  find 
a  single  lonely  oath  in  what  I've  said." 

"  Never  mind  Effie  McBean,"  I  interposed. 
"  What  are  the  congregation  saying  about  the 
minister's  absence  ?  " 

"  We  ken  little  except  what  Effie  telled  us," 
Nanny  answered.  "  I  was  at  Tilliedrum  yestreen, 
meeting  Sanders  as  he  got  out  o'  the  gaol,  and 
that  awfu'  onding  began  when  we  was  on  the 
Bellies  Braes.  We  focht  our  way  through  it,  but 
not  a  soul  did  we  meet ;  and  wha  would  gang  out 
the  day  that  can  bide  at  hame  ?  Ay,  bat  Effie 
says  it's  kent  in  Thrums  that  Mr.  Dishart  has  run 
off  wi'  —  wi'  an  Egyptian." 

"  You're  waur  than  her,  Nanny,"  Sanders  said, 
roughly,  "  for  you  hae  twa  reasons  for  kenning 
better.  In  the  first  place,  has  Mr.  Dishart  no 
keeped  you  in  siller  a'  the  time  I  was  awa  ?  and 
for  another,  have  I  no  been  at  the  manse  ?  " 

My  head  rose  now. 

"  He  gaed  to  the  manse,"  Nanny  explained, 
"  to  thank  Mr.  Dishart  for  being  so  good  to  me. 
Ay,  but  Jean  wouldna  let  him  in.  Em  thinking 
that  looks  gey  gray." 

"  Whatever  was  her  reason,"  Sanders  admitted, 
"  Jean  wouldna  open  the  door  ;  but  I  keeked  in 
at  the  parlour  window,  and  saw  Mrs.  Dishart  in't, 
looking  very  cosylike  and  lauching  ;  and  do  you 


Defence  of  the  Manse  383 

think  I  would  hae  seen  that  if  ill  had  come  ower 
the  minister  ?  " 

"  Not  if  Margaret  knew  of  it,"  I  said  to  my- 
self, and  wondered  at  Whamond's  forbearance. 

"  She  had  a  skein  o'  worsted  stretched  out  on 
her  hands,"  Sanders  continued,  "  and  a  young 
leddy  was  winding  it.  I  didna  see  her  richt,  but 
she  wasna  a  Thrums  leddy." 

"  Effie  McBean  says  she's  his  intended,  come 
to  call  him  to  account,"  Nanny  said ;  but  I  hardly 
listened,  for  I  saw  that  I  must  hurry  to  Tammas 
Whamond's.  Nanny  followed  me  to  the  gate 
with  her  gown  pulled  over  her  head,  and  said, 
excitedly  : 

"  Oh,  dominie,  I  warrant  it's  true.  It'll  be 
Babbie.  Sanders  doesna  suspect,  because  I've 
telled  him  nothing  about  her.  Oh,  what's  to  be 
done  ?     They  were  baith  so  good  to  me." 

I  could  only  tell  her  to  keep  what  she  knew 
to  herself 

"  Has  Rob  Dow  come  back  ?  "  I  called  out 
after  I  had  started. 

"  Whaur  frae  ? "  she  replied ;  and  then  I 
remembered  that  all  these  things  had  happened 
while  Nanny  was  at  Tilliedrum.  In  this  life 
some  of  the  seven  ages  are  spread  over  two 
decades,  and  others  pass  as  quickly  as  a  stage 
play.  Though  a  fifth  of  a  season's  rain  had 
fallen  in  a  night  and  a  day,  it  had  scarcely  kept 
pace  with  Gavin. 

I  hurried  to  the  town  by  the  Roods.  That 
brae  was  as  deserted  as  the  country  roads,  except 
where  children  had  escaped  from  their  mothers  to 
wade  in  it.     Here  and  there  dams  were  keeping 


384  The  Little  Minister 

the  water  away  from  one  door  to  send  it  with 
greater  volume  to  another,  and  at  points  the 
ground  had  fallen  in.  But  this  I  noticed  without 
interest.  I  did  not  even  realise  that  I  was  hold- 
ing my  head  painfully  to  the  side  where  it  had 
been  blown  by  the  wind  and  glued  by  the  rain. 
I  have  never  held  my  head  straight  since  that 
journey. 

Only  a  few  looms  were  going,  their  pedals  in 
water.  I  was  addressed  from  several  doors  and 
windows,  once  by  Charles  Yuill. 

"  Dinna  pretend,"  he  said, "  that  you've  walked 
in  frae  the  schoolhouse  alane.  The  rain  chased 
me  into  this  house  yestreen,  and  here  it  has 
keeped  me,  though  I  bide  no  further  awa  than 
Tillyloss." 

"  Charles,"  I  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "  why  is  the 
Auld  Licht  bell  ringing  ?  " 

"  Hae  you  no  heard  about  Mr.  Dishart  ?  "  he 
asked.  "  Oh,  man  !  that's  Lang  Tammas  in  the 
kirk  by  himsel',  tearing  at  the  bell  to  bring 
the  folk  thegither  to  depose  the  minister." 

Instead  of  going  to  Whamond's  house  in  the 
school  wynd  I  hastened  down  the  Banker's  close 
to  the  kirk,  and  had  almost  to  turn  back,  so 
choked  was  the  close  with  the  floating  refuse.  I 
could  see  the  bell  swaying,  but  the  kirk  was 
locked,  and  I  battered  on  the  door  to  no  purpose. 
Then,  remembering  that  Hendry  Munn  lived  in 
Coutt's  trance,  I  set  off  for  his  house.  He  saw 
me  crossing  the  square,  but  would  not  open  his 
door  until  I  was  close  to  it. 

"  When  I  open,"  he  cried,  "  squeeze  through 
quick  ;"    but  though  I  did  his  bidding  a  rush  of 


Defence  of  the   Manse  385 

water  darted  in  before  me.     Hendry  reclosed  the 

door  by  flinging  himself  against  it. 

"  When    I    saw  you  crossing  the  square,"    he 

said,  "  it   was  surprise  enough   to  cure  the  hie- 

>> 
cup. 

"  Hendry,"  I  replied,  instantly,  "  why  is  the 
Auld  Licht  bell  ringing?  " 

He  put  his  finger  to  his  lip.  "  I  see,"  he  said, 
imperturbably,  "  you've  met  our  folk  in  the  glen 
and  heard  frae  them  about  the  minister." 

"  What  folk  ?  " 

"  Mair  than  half  the  congregation,"  he  replied. 
"  I  started  for  Glen  Quharity  twa  hours  syne  to 
help  the  farmers.     You  didna  see  them  ?  " 

"  No  ;  they  must  have  been  on  the  other  side 
of  the  river."  Again  that  question  forced  my 
lips,  "  Why  is  the  bell  ringing  ?  " 

"  Canny,  dominie,"  he  said,  "  till  we're  up  the 
stair.  Mysy  Moncur's  lug's  at  her  keyhole 
listening  to  you." 

"  You  lie,  Hendry  Munn,"  cried  an  invisible 
woman.  The  voice  became  more  plaintive :  "  I 
ken  a  heap,  Hendry,  so  you  may  as  well  tell 
me  a'." 

"  Lick  away  at  the  bone  you  hae,"  the  shoe- 
maker replied,  heartlessly,  and  conducted  me  to 
his  room  up  one  of  the  few  inside  stairs  then  in 
Thrums.  Hendry's  oddest  furniture  was  five 
boxes,  fixed  to  the  wall  at  such  a  height  that 
children  could  climb  into  them  from  a  high  stool. 
In  these  his  bairns  slept,  and  so  space  was  econo- 
mised. I  could  never  laugh  at  the  arrangement, 
as  I  knew  that  Betty  had  planned  it  on  her 
death-bed  for  her  man's  sake.     Five  little  heads 


386  The  Little  Minister 

bobbed  up  in  their  beds  as  I  entered,  but  more 
vexing  to  me  was  Wearyworld  on  a  stool, 

"  In  by,  dominie,"  he  said,  sociably.  "  Sal, 
you  needna  fear  burning  wi'  a'  that  water  on  you. 
You're  in  mair  danger  o'  coming  a-boil." 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you  alone,  Hendry,"  I 
said,  bluntly. 

"  You  winna  put  me  out,  Hendry  ? "  the 
alarmed  policeman  entreated.  "  Mind,  you  said 
in  sic  weather  you  would  be  friendly  to  a  brute 
beast.  Ay,  ay,  dominie,  what's  your  news?  It's 
welcome,  be  it  good  or  bad.  You  would  meet 
the  townsfolk  in  the  glen,  and  they  would  tell 
you  about  Mr.  Dishart.  What,  you  hinna  heard  ? 
Oh,  sirs,  he's  a  lost  man.  There  would  hae  been 
a  meeting  the  day  to  depose  him  if  so  many 
hadna  gaen  to  the  glen.  But  the  morn'll  do  as 
weel.  The  very  women  is  cursing  him,  and  the 
laddies  has  begun  to  gather  stanes.  He's  married 
on  an  Egyp —  " 

"  Hendry  !  "  I  cried,  like  one  giving  an  order. 

"  Wearyworld,  step  !  "  said  Hendry,  sternly, 
and  then  added,  soft-heartedly  :  "  Here's  a  bit 
news  that'll  open  Mysy  Moncur's  door  to  you. 
You  can  tell  her  frae  me  that  the  bell's  ringing 
just  because  I  forgot  to  tie  it  up  last  nicht,  and 
the  wind's  shaking  it,  and  I  winna  gang  out  in  the 
rain  to  stop  it." 

"  Ay,"  the  policeman  said,  looking  at  me  sulk- 
ily, "  she  may  open  her  door  for  that,  but  it'll  no 
let  me  in.  Tell  me  mair.  Tell  me  wha  the 
leddy  at  the  manse  is." 

"  Out  you  go,"  answered  Hendry.  "  Once 
she  opens  the  door,  you  can  shove  your  foot  in, 


Defence  of  the   Manse  387 

and  syne  she's  in  your  power."  He  pushed 
Wearyworld  out,  and  came  back  to  me,  saying, 
"It  was  best  to  tell  him  the  truth,  to  keep  him 
frae  making  up  lies." 

"  But  is  it  the  truth  ?  I  was  told  Lang 
Tammas  —  " 

"  Ay,  I  ken  that  story  ;  but  Tammas  has  other 
work  on  hand." 

"  Then  tie  up  the  bell  at  once,  Hendry,"  I 
urged. 

"  I  canna,"  he  answered,  gravely.  "  Tammas 
took  the  keys  o'  the  kirk  fram  me  yestreen,  and 
winna  gie  them  up.  He  says  the  bell's  being 
rung  by  the  hand  o'  God." 

.  "Has  he  been  at  the  manse.''  Does  Mrs. 
Dishart  know  —  ?  " 

"  He's  been  at  the  manse  twa  or  three  times, 
but  Jean  barred  him  out.  She'll  let  nobody  in 
till  the  minister  comes  back,  and  so  the  mistress 
kens  nothing.  But  what's  the  use  o'  keeping  it 
frae  her  ony  langer  ?  " 

"  Every  use,"  I  said. 

"  None,"  answered  Hendry,  sadly.  "  Domi- 
nie, the  minister  was  married  to  the  Egyptian  on 
the  hill  last  nicht,  and  Tammas  was  witness. 
Not  only  were  they  married,  but  they've  run  aff 
thegither." 

"  You  are  wrong,  Hendry,"  I  assured  him, 
telling  as  much  as  I  dared.  "  I  left  Mr.  Dishart 
in  my  house." 

"  What !  But  if  that  is  so,  how  did  he  no 
come  back  wi'  you  ?  " 

"  Because  he  was  nearly  drowned  in  the  flood." 

"  She'll  be  wi'  him  ?  " 


388  The   Little   Minister 

"  He  was  alone." 

Hendry's  face  lit  up  dimly  with  joy,  and  then 
he  shook  his  head.  "  Tammas  was  witness,"  he 
said.     "  Can  you  deny  the  marriage  ?  " 

"  All  I  ask  of  you,"  I  answered,  guardedly, 
"  is  to  suspend  judgment  until  the  minister 
returns." 

"  There  can  be  nothing  done,  at  ony  rate,"  he 
said,  "  till  the  folk  themsel's  come  back  frae  the 
glen ;  and  I  needna  tell  you  how  glad  we  would 
a'  be  to  be  as  fond  o'  him  as  ever.  But  Tammas 
was  witness." 

"  Have  pity  on  his  mother,  man." 

"  We've  done  the  best  for  her  we  could,"  he 
replied.  "  We  prigged  wi'  Tammas  no  to  gang 
to  the  manse  till  we  was  sure  the  minister  was 
living.  '  For  if  he  has  been  drowned,'  we  said, 
*  his  mother  need  never  ken  what  we  were  think- 
ing o'  doing.'  Ay,  and  we're  sorry  for  the 
young  leddy,  too." 

"  What  young  lady  is  this  you  all  talk  of? "  I 
asked. 

"  She's  his  intended.  Ay,  you  needna  start. 
She  has  come  a'  the  road  frae  Glasgow  to  chal- 
lenge him  about  the  gypsy.  The  pitiful  thing  is 
that  Mrs.  Dishart  lauched  awa  her  fears,  and  now 
they're  baith  waiting  for  his  return,  as  happy  as 
ignorance  can  make  them." 

"  There  is  no  such  lady,"  I  said. 

"  But  there  is,"  he  answered,  doggedly,  "  for 
she  came  in  a  machine  late  last  nicht,  and  I  was 
ane  o'  a  dozen  that  baith  heard  and  saw  it 
through  my  window.  It  stopped  at  the  manse 
near  half  an  hour.     What's  mair,  the  lady  hersel' 


Defence  of  the   Manse  389 

was  at  Sam'l  Farquharson's  in  the  Tenements 
the  day  for  twa  hours." 

I  listened  in  bewilderment  and  fear. 

"  Sam'l's  bairn's  down  wi'  scarlet  fever  and  like 
to  die,  and  him  being  a  widow-man  he  has  gone 
useless.  You  mauna  blame  the  wives  in  the 
Tenements  for  hauding  back.  They're  fleid  to 
smit  their  ain  litlins ;  and  as  it  happens,  Sam'l's 
friends  is  a'  afF  to  the  glen.  Weel,  he  ran  greet- 
ing to  the  manse  for  Mr.  Dishart,  and  the  lady 
heard  him  crying  to  Jean  through  the  door,  and 
what  does  she  do  but  gang  straucht  to  the  Tene- 
ments wi'  Sam'l.  Her  goodness  has  naturally 
put  the  folk  on  her  side  against  the  minister." 

"  This  does  not  prove  her  his  intended,"  I 
broke  in. 

"  She  was  heard  saying  to  Sam'l,"  answered 
the  kirk  officer,  "  that  the  minister  being  awa,  it 
was  her  duty  to  take  his  place.  Yes,  and  though 
she  little  kent  it,  he  was  already  married." 

"  Hendry,"  I  said,  rising,  "  I  must  see  this 
lady  at  once.  Is  she  still  at  Farquharson's 
house .?  " 

"  She  may  be  back  again  by  this  time.  Tam- 
mas  set  off  for  Sam'l's  as  soon  as  he  heard  she 
was  there,  but  he  just  missed  her.  I  left  him 
there  an  hour  syne.  He  was  waiting  for  her, 
determined  to  tell  her  all." 

I  set  off  for  the  Tenements  at  once,  declining 
Hendry's  company.  The  wind  had  fallen,  so 
that  the  bell  no  longer  rang,  but  the  rain  was 
falling  doggedly.  The  streets  were  still  de- 
serted. I  pushed  open  the  precentor's  door  in 
the   school   wynd,  but  there  was   no  one  in   the 


390  The  Little  Minister 

house.  Tibbie  Birse  saw  me,  and  shouted  from 
her  door : 

"  Hae  you  heard  o'  Mr.  Dishart?  He'll  never 
daur  show  face  in  Thrums  again." 

Without  giving  her  a  word  I  hastened  to  the 
Tenements. 

"  The  leddy's  no  here,"  Sam'l  Farquharson 
told  me,  "  and  Tammas  is  back  at  the  manse 
again,  trying  to  force  his  way  in." 

From  Sam'l,  too,  I  turned,  with  no  more  than 
a  groan  ;  but  he  cried  after  me,  "  Perdition  on  the 
man  that  has  played  that  leddy  false." 

Had  Margaret  been  at  her  window  she  must 
have  seen  me,  so  recklessly  did  I  hurry  up  the 
minister's  roadj  with  nothing  in  me  but  a  passion 
to  take  Whamond  by  the  throat.  He  was  not 
in  the  garden.  The  kitchen  door  was  open. 
Jean  was  standing  at  it  with  her  apron  to  her 
eyes. 

"  Tammas  Whamond  ?  "  I  demanded,  and  my 
face  completed  the  question. 

"You're  ower  late,"  she  wailed.  "He's  wi' 
her.     Oh,  dominie,  whaur's  the  minister  ?  " 

"  You  base  woman  !  "  I  cried,  "  why  did  you 
unbar  the  door?  " 

"  It  was  the  mistress,"  she  answered.  "  She 
heard  him  shaking  it,  and  I  had  to  tell  her  wha 
it  was.  Dominie,  it's  a'  my  wite  !  He  tried  to 
get  in  last  nicht,  and  roared  threats  through  the 
door,  and  after  he  had  gone  awa  she  speired 
wha  I  had  been  speaking  to.  I  had  to  tell  her, 
but  I  said  he  had  come  to  let  her  ken  that  the 
minister  was  taking  shelter  frae  the  rain  in  a  farm- 
house.    Ay,  I  said  he  was  to  bide  there  till  the 


Defence  of  the   Manse  391 

flood  gaed  down,  and  that's  how  she  has  been 
easy  a'  day.  I  acted  for  the  best,  but  I'm  sair 
punished  now ;  for  when  she  heard  Tammas  at 
the  door  twa  or  three  minutes  syne,  she  ordered 
me  to  let  him  in,  so  that  she  could  thank  him 
for  bringing  the  news  last  nicht,  despite  the  rain. 
They're  in  the  parlour.  Oh,  dominie,  gang  in  and 
stop  his  mouth." 

This  was  hard.  I  dared  not  go  to  the  parlour. 
Margaret  might  have  died  at  sight  of  me.  I 
turned  my  face  from  Jean. 

"  Jean,"  said  some  one,  opening  the  inner 
kitchen  door,  "  why  did  you  —  ?  " 

She  stopped,  and  that  was  what  turned  me 
round.  As  she  spoke,  I  thought  it  was  the 
young  lady  ;  when  I  looked  I  saw  it  was  Babbie, 
though  no  longer  in  a  gypsy's  dress.  Then  I 
knew  that  the  young  lady  and  Babbie  were  one. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX 

HOW    BABBIE    SPENT    THE    NIGHT    OF    AUGUST 
FOURTH 

HOW  had  the  Egyptian  been  spirited  here 
from  the  Spittal  ?  I  did  not  ask  the  ques- 
tian.  To  interest  myself  in  Babbie  at  that  dire 
hour  of  Margaret's  Hfe  would  have  been  as 
impossible  to  me  as  to  sit  down  to  a  book.  To 
others,  however,  it  is  only  an  old  woman  on 
whom  the  parlour  door  of  the  manse  has  closed, 
only  a  garrulous  dominie  that  is  in  pain  outside 
it.     Your  eyes  are  on  the  young  wife. 

When  Babbie  was  plucked  off  the  hill,  she 
thought  as  little  as  Gavin  that  her  captor  was 
Rob  Dow.  Close  as  he  was  to  her,  he  was  but 
a  shadow  until  she  screamed  the  second  time, 
when  he  pressed  her  to  the  ground,  and  tied 
his  neckerchief  over  her  mouth.  Then,  in  the 
moment  that  power  of  utterance  was  taken  from 
her,  she  saw  the  face  that  had  startled  her  at 
Nanny's  window.  Half  carried,  she  was  borne 
forward  rapidly,  until  some  one  seemed  to  rise 
out  of  the  broom,  and  strike  them  both.  They 
had  only  run  against  the  doctor's  trap ;  and, 
huddling  her  into  it,  Dow  jumped  up  beside  her. 
He  tied  her  hands  together  with  a  cord.  For  a 
time  the  horse  feared  the  darkness  in  front  more 
than  the  lash  behind ;  but  when  the  rains  became 

392 


The   Night  of  August  Fourth  393 

terrific,  it  rushed  ahead  wildly,  —  probably  with 
its  eyes  shut. 

In  three  minutes  Babbie  went  through  all  the 
degrees  of  fear.  In  the  first  she  thought  Lord 
Rintoul  had  kidnapped  her ;  but  no  sooner  had 
her  captor  resolved  himself  into  Dow,  drunk  with 
the  events  of  the  day  and  night,  than  in  the  earl's 
hands  would  have  lain  safety.  Next,  Dow  was 
forgotten  in  the  dread  of  a  sudden  death  which 
he  must  share.  And  lastly,  the  rain  seemed  to 
be  driving  all  other  horrors  back,  that  it  might 
have  her  for  its  own.  Her  perils  increased  to 
the  unbearable  as  quickly  as  an  iron  in  the  fire 
passes  through  the  various  stages  between  warmth 
and  white  heat.  Then  she  had  to  do  something ; 
and  as  she  could  not  cry  out,  she  flung  herself 
from  the  dog-cart.  She  fell  heavily  in  Caddam 
Wood,  but  the  rain  would  not  let  her  lie  there 
stunned.  It  beat  her  back  to  consciousness,  and 
she  sat  up  on  her  knees,  and  listened  breathlessly, 
staring  in  the  direction  the  trap  had  taken,  as  if 
her  eyes  could  help  her  ears. 

All  night,  I  have  said,  the  rain  poured,  but 
those  charges  only  rode  down  the  deluge  at 
intervals,  as  now  and  again  one  wave  greater 
than  the  others  stalks  over  the  sea.  In  the 
first  lull  it  appeared  to  Babbie  that  the  storm 
had  swept  by,  leaving  her  to  Dow.  Now  she 
heard  the  rubbing  of  the  branches,  and  felt  the 
torn  leaves  falling  on  her  gown.  She  rose  to  feel 
her  way  out  of  the  wood  with  her  bound  hands, 
then  sank  in  terror,  for  some  one  had  called  her 
name.  Next  moment  she  was  up  again,  for  the 
voice  was  Gavin's,  who  was   hurrying  after  her, 


394  The   Little   Minister 

as  he  thought,  down  Windyghoul.  He  was  no 
farther  away  than  a  whisper  might  have  carried 
on  a  still  night,  but  she  dared  not  pursue  him, 
for  already  Dow  was  coming  back.  She  could 
not  see  him,  but  she  heard  the  horse  whinny  and 
the  rocking  of  the  dog-cart.  Dow  was  now  at 
the  brute's  head,  and  probably  it  tried  to  bite 
him,  for  he  struck  it,  crying : 

"  Would  you  ?  Stand  still  till  I  find  her.  I 
heard  her  move  this  minute." 

Babbie  crouched  upon  a  big  stone  and  sat 
motionless  while  he  groped  for  her.  Her 
breathing  might  have  been  tied  now,  as  well 
as  her  mouth.  She  heard  him  feeling  for  her, 
first  with  his  feet  and  then  with  his  hands,  and 
swearing  when  his  head  struck  against  a  tree. 

"  I  ken  you're  within  hearing,"  he  muttered, 
"and  I'll  hae  you  yet.  I  have  a  gully-knife  in 
my  hand.      Listen  !  " 

He  severed  a  whin-stalk  with  the  knife,  and 
Babbie  seemed  to  see  the  gleam  of  the  blade. 

"  What  do  I  mean  by  wanting  to  kill  you  ?  " 
he  said,  as  if  she  had  asked  the  question.  "  Do 
you  no  ken  wha  said  to  me,  '  Kill  this  woman  ? ' 
It  was  the  Lord.  '  I  winna  kill  her,'  I  said,  *  but 
I'll  cart  her  out  o'  the  country.'  '  Kill  her,' 
says  He  ;  'why  encumbereth  she  the  ground? 

He  resumed  his  search,  but  with  new  tactics. 
"  I  see  you  now,"  he  would  cry,  and  rush  for- 
ward perhaps  within  a  yard  of  her.  Then  she 
must  have  screamed  had  she  had  the  power. 
When  he  tied  that  neckerchief  round  her  mouth 
he  prolonged  her  life. 

Then  came  the  second  hurricane   of  rain,  so 


The   Night  of  August   Fourth  395 

appalling  that  had  Babbie's  hands  been  free  she 
would  have  pressed  them  to  her  ears.  For  a  full 
minute  she  forgot  Dow's  presence.  A  living 
thing  touched  her  face.  The  horse  had  found 
her.  She  recoiled  from  it,  but  its  frightened  head 
pressed  heavily  on  her  shoulder.  She  rose  and 
tired  to  steal  away,  but  the  brute  followed,  and  as 
the  rain  suddenly  exhausted  itself  she  heard  the 
dragging  of  the  dog-cart.     She  had  to  halt. 

Again  she  heard  Dow's  voice.  Perhaps  he 
had  been  speaking  throughout  the  roar  of  the 
rain.  If  so,  it  must  have  made  him  deaf  to  his 
own  words.  He  groped  for  the  horse's  head, 
and  presently  his  hand  touched  Babbie's  dress, 
then  jumped  from  it,  so  suddenly  had  he  found 
her.  No  sound  escaped  him,  and  she  was  begin- 
ning to  think  it  possible  that  he  had  mistaken  her 
for  a  bush  when  his  hand  went  over  her  face.  He 
was  making  sure  of  his  discovery. 

"  The  Lord  has  delivered  you  into  my  hands," 
he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  with  some  awe  in  it.  Then 
he  pulled  her  to  the  ground,  and,  sitting  down 
beside  her,  rocked  himself  backward  and  for- 
ward, his  hands  round  his  knees.  She  would 
have  bartered  the  world  for  power  to  speak  to 
him. 

"  He  wouldna  hear  o'  my  just  carting  you  to 
some  other  country-side,"  he  said,  confidentially. 
" '  The  devil  would  just  blaw  her  back  again,' 
says  He,  '  therefore  kill  her.'  '  And  if  I  kill  her,' 
I  says,  '  they'll  hang  me.'  '  You  can  hang  your- 
sel','  says  he.  '  What  wi'  ? '  I  speirs.  '  Wi'  the 
reins  o'  the  dog-cart,'  says  He.  '  They  would 
break,'  says   I.     '  Weel,  weel,'  says   He,  'though 


396  The   Little   Minister 

they  do  hang  you,  nobody'll  miss  you.'  *  That's 
true,'  says  I,  'and  You  are  a  just  God.'  " 

He  stood  up  and  confronted  her. 

"  Prisoner  at  the  bar,"  he  said,  "  hae  ye  ony- 
thing  to  say  why  sentence  of  death  shouldna  be 
pronounced  against  you  ?  She  doesna  answer. 
She  kens  deatli  is  her  deserts." 

By  this  time  he  had  forgotten  probably  why 
his  victim  was  dumb. 

"  Prisoner  at  the  bar,  hand  back  to  me  the 
soul  o'  Gavin  Dishart.  You  winna  ?  Did 
the  devil,  your  master,  summon  you  to  him 
and  say,  '  Either  that  noble  man  or  me  maun 
leave  Thrums  ? '  He  did.  And  did  you,  or 
did  you  no,  drag  that  minister,  when  under 
your  spell,  to  the  hill,  and  there  marry  him 
ower  the  tongs  ?  You  did.  Witnesses,  Rob 
Dow  and  Tammas  Whamond." 

She  was  moving  from  him  on  her  knees, 
meaning  when  out  of  arm's  reach  to  make  a 
dash  for  life. 

"  Sit  down,"  he  grumbled,  "  or  how  can  you 
expect  a  fair  trial  ?  Prisoner  at  the  bar,  you  have 
been  found  guilty  of  witchcraft." 

For  the  first  time  his  voice  faltered. 

"  That's  the  difficulty,  for  witches  canna  die, 
except  by  burning  or  drowning.  There's  no 
blood  in  you  for  my  knife,  and  your  neck 
wouldna  twist.  Your  master  has  brocht  the 
rain  to  put  out  a'  the  fires,  and  we'll  hae  to 
wait  till  it  runs  into  a  pool  deep  enough  to 
drown   you. 

"  I  wonder  at  You,  God.  Do  You  believe  her 
master'll  mak'  the  pool    for  her  ?     He'll   rather 


The  Night  of  August  Fourth  397 

stop  his  rain.  Mr.  Dishart  said  You  was  mair 
powerful  than  the  devil,  but  it  doesna  look  like 
it.  If  You  had  the  power,  how  did  You  no  stop 
this  woman  working  her  will  on  the  minister,? 
You  kent  what  she  was  doing,  for  You  ken  a' 
things.  Mr.  Dishart  says  You  ken  a'  things.  If 
You  do,  the  mair  shame  to  You.  Would  a 
shepherd,  that  could  help  it,  let  dogs  worry  his 
sheep.?  Kill  her!  It's  fine  to  cry  'Kill  her,' 
but  whaur's  the  bonfire,  whaur's  the  pool  ?  You 
that  made  the  heaven  and  the  earth,  and  all  that 
in  them  is,  can  You  no  set  fire  to  some  wet 
whins,  or  change  this  stane  into  a  mill-dam  .?  " 

He  struck  the  stone  with  his  fist,  and  then 
gave  a  cry  of  exultation.  He  raised  the  great 
slab  in  his  arms  and  flung  it  from  him.  In  that 
moment  Babbie  might  have  run  away,  but  she 
fainted.  Almost  simultaneously  with  Dow  she 
knew  this  was  the  stone  which  covered  the  Cad- 
dam  well.  When  she  came  to,  Dow  was  speaking, 
and  his  voice  had  become  solemn. 

"  You  said  your  master  was  mair  powerful  than 
mine,  and  I  said  it,  too,  and  all  the  time  you  was 
sitting  here  wi'  the  very  pool  aneath  you  that  I 
have  been  praying  for.     Listen  !  " 

He  dropped  a  stone  into  the  well,  and  she 
heard  it  strike  the  water. 

"  What  are  you  shaking  at  ? "  he  said,  in 
reproof.  "  Was  it  no  yoursel'  that  chose  the 
spot  ?  Lassie,  say  your  prayers.  Are  you  saying 
them  ?  " 

He  put  his  hand  over  her  face,  to  feel  if  her 
lips  were  moving,  and  tore  off  the  neckerchief 

And  then  again  the  rain  came  between  them. 


398  The  Little  Minister 

In  that  rain  one  could  not  think.  Babbie  did 
not  know  that  she  had  bitten  through  the  string 
that  tied  her  hands.  She  planned  no  escape.  But 
she  flung  herself  at  the  place  where  Dow  had 
been  standing.  He  was  no  longer  there,  and  she 
fell  heavily,  and  was  on  her  feet  again  in  an 
instant,  and  running  recklessly.  Trees  inter- 
cepted her,  and  she  thought  they  were  Dow, 
and  wrestled  with  them.  By  and  by  she  fell 
into  Windyghoul,  and  there  she  crouched  until 
all  her  senses  were  restored  to  her,  when  she 
remembered  that  she  had  been  married  lately. 

How  long  Dow  was  in  discovering  that  she 
had  escaped,  and  whether  he  searched  for  her,  no 
one  knows.  After  a  time  he  jumped  into  the 
dog-cart  again,  and  drove  aimlessly  through  the 
rain.  That  wild  journey  probably  lasted  two 
hours,  and  came  to  an  abrupt  end  only  when  a 
tree  fell  upon  the  trap.  The  horse  galloped  oflF, 
but  one  of  Dow's  legs  was  beneath  the  tree,  and 
there  he  had  to  He  helpless,  for  though  the  leg 
was  little  injured,  he  could  not  extricate  himself. 
A  night  and  day  passed,  and  he  believed  that  he 
must  die ;  but  even  in  this  plight  he  did  not  for- 
get the  man  he  loved.  He  found  a  piece  of 
slate,  and  in  the  darkness  cut  these  words  on  it 
with  his  knife : 

*♦  Me  being  about  to  die,  I  solemnly  swear  I  didna  see  the 
minister  marrying  an  Egyptian  on  the  hill  this  nicht.  May  I 
burn  in  Hell  if  this  is  no  true. 

(Signed)  "  Rob  Dow." 

This  document  he  put  in  his  pocket,  and  so 
preserved  proof  of  what  he  was  perjuring  himself 
to  deny. 


CHAPTER  XL 

BABBIE  AND    MARGARET DEFENCE   OF  THE    MANSE 

CONTINUED 

THE  Egyptian  was  mournful  in  Windyghoul, 
up  which  she  had  once  danced  and  sung ; 
but  you  must  not  think  that  she  still  feared  Dow. 
I  felt  McKenzie's  clutch  on  my  arm  for  hours 
after  he  left  me,  but  she  was  far  braver  than  I  ; 
indeed,  dangers  at  which  I  should  have  shut  my 
eyes  only  made  hers  gleam,  and  I  suppose  it  was 
sheer  love  of  them  that  first  made  her  play  the 
coquette  with  Gavin.  If  she  cried  now,  it  was 
not  for  herself;  it  was  because  she  thought  she  had 
destroyed  him.  Could  I  have  gone  to  her  then 
and  said  that  Gavin  wanted  to  blot  out  the  gypsy 
wedding,  that  throbbing  little  breast  would  have 
frozen  at  once,  and  the  drooping  head  would  have 
been  proud  again,  and  she  would  have  gone  away 
for  ever  without  another  tear. 

What  do  I  say  ?  I  am  doing  a  wrong  to  the 
love  these  two  bore  each  other.  Babbie  would 
not  have  taken  so  base  a  message  from  my  lips. 
He  would  have  had  to  say  the  words  to  her  himself 
before  she  believed  them  his.  What  would  he 
want  her  to  do  now  ?  was  the  only  question  she 
asked  herself.  To  follov/  him  was  useless,  for  in 
that  rain  and  darkness  two  people  might  have 
searched  for  each  other  all  night  in  a  single  field. 

399 


400  The   Little   Minister 

That  he  would  go  to  the  Spittal,  thinking  her  in 
Rintoul's  dog-cart,  she  did  not  doubt;  and  his 
distress  was  painful  to  her  to  think  of.  But  not 
knowing  that  the  burns  were  in  flood,  she  under- 
estimated his  danger. 

Remembering  that  the  mud  house  was  near, 
she  groped  her  way  to  it,  meaning  to  pass  the 
night  there  ;  but  at  the  gate  she  turned  away 
hastily,  hearing  from  the  door  the  voice  of  a  man 
she  did  not  know  to  be  Nanny's  brother.  She 
wandered  recklessly  a  short  distance,  until  the 
rain  began  to  threaten  again,  and  then,  falling  on 
her  knees  in  the  broom,  she  prayed  to  God  for 
guidance.  When  she  rose  she  set  off  for  the 
manse. 

The  rain  that  followed  the  flash  of  lightning 
had  brought  Margaret  to  the  kitchen. 

"  Jean,  did  you  ever  hear  such  a  rain  ?  It  is 
trying  to  break  into  the  manse." 

"  I  canna  hear  you,  ma'am  ;  is  it  the  rain  you're 
feared  at  ?  " 

"  What  else  could  it  be  ?  " 

Jean  did  not  answer. 

"  I  hope  the  minister  won't  leave  the  church, 
Jean,  till  this  is  over?  " 

"  Nobody  would  daur,  ma'am.  The  rain'U 
turn  the  key  on  them  all." 

Jean  forced  out  these  words  with  difficulty,  for 
she  knew  that  the  church  had  been  empty  and  the 
door  locked  for  over  an  hour. 

"  This  rain  has  come  as  if  in  answer  to  the 
minister's  prayer,  Jean." 

"  It  wasna  rain  like  this  they  wanted." 

"  Jean,  you  would   not  attempt  to   guide   the 


Babbie  and   Margaret  401 

Lord's  hand.  The  minister  will  have  to  reprove 
the  people  for  thinking  too  much  of  him  again, 
for  they  will  say  that  he  induced  God  to  send  the 
rain.  To-night's  meeting  will  be  remembered 
long  in  Thrums." 

Jean  shuddered,  and  said,  "  It's  mair  like  an 
ordinary  rain  now,  ma'am." 

"  But  it  has  put  out  your  fire,  and  I  wanted 
another  heater.  Perhaps  the  one  I  have  is  hot 
enough,  though." 

Margaret  returned  to  the  parlour,  and  from  the 
kitchen  Jean  could  hear  the  heater  tilted  backward 
and  forward  in  the  box-iron,  —  a  pleasant,  homely 
sound  when  there  is  happiness  in  the  house.  Soon 
she  heard  a  step  outside,  however,  and  it  was 
followed  by  a  rough  shaking  of  the  barred 
door. 

"  Is  it  you,  Mr.  Dishart  ? "  Jean  asked,  ner- 
vously. 

"  It's  me,  Tammas  Whamond,"  the  precentor 
answered.     "  Unbar  the  door." 

"  What  do  you  want  ?     Speak  low." 

"  I  winna  speak  low.  Let  me  in.  I  hae  news 
for  the  minister's  mother." 

"  What  news  ?  "  demanded  Jean. 

"Jean  Proctor,  as  chief  elder  of  the  kirk  I 
order  you   to  let  me  do  my  duty." 

"  Whaur's  the  minister  ?  " 

"  He's  a  minister  no  longer.  He's  married  a 
gypsy  woman  and  run  awa  wi'  her." 

"You  lie,  Tammas  Whamond.      I  believe  —  " 

"  Your  belief's  of  no  consequence.  Open  the 
door,  and  let  me  in  to  tell  your  mistress  what  I 
hae  seen." 


402  The   Little   Minister 

"  She'll  hear  it  first  frae  his  ain  lips  if  she  hears 
it  ava.      I  winna  open  the  door." 

"  Then  I'll  burst  it  open." 

Whamond  flung  himself  at  the  door,  and  Jean, 
her  fingers  rigid  with  fear,  stood  waiting  for  its 
fall.  But  the  rain  came  to  her  rescue  by  lashing 
the  precentor  until  even  he  was  forced  to  run 
from  it. 

"  I'll  be  back  again,"  he  cried.  "  Woe  to  you, 
Jean  Proctor,  that  hae  denied  your  God  this 
nicht." 

"  Who  was  that  speaking  to  you,  Jean  ?  "  asked 
Margaret,  reentering  the  kitchen.  Until  the  rain 
abated  Jean  did  not  attempt  to  answer. 

"  I  thought  it  was  the  precentor's  voice," 
Margaret  said. 

Jean  was  a  poor  hand  at  lying,  and  she  stut- 
tered in  her  answer. 

"  There  is  nothing  wrong,  is  there  ? "  cried 
Margaret,  in   sudden   fright.     "  My  son  —  " 

"  Nothing,  nothing." 

The  words  jumped  from  Jean  to  save  Margaret 
from  falling.  Now  she  could  not  take  them 
back.  "  I  winna  believe  it  o'  him,"  said  Jean  to 
herself.  "  Let  them  say  what  they  will,  I'll  be 
true  to  him ;  and  when  he  comes  back  he'll  find 
her  as  he  left  her." 

"  It  was  Lang  Tammas,"  she  answered  her 
mistress  ;  "  but  he  just  came  to  say  that  —  " 

"  Quick,  Jean,  what  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Dishart  has  been  called  to  a  sick  bed 
in  the  country,  ma'am,  —  to  the  farm  o'  Look- 
About- You  ;  and  as  it's  sic  a  rain,  he's  to  bide 
there  a'  nicht." 


Babbie  and   Margaret  403 

"And  Whamond  came  through  that  rain  to 
tell  me  this?  How  good  of  him.  Was  there 
any  other  message  ?  " 

"Just  that  the  minister  hoped  you  would  go 
straight  to  your  bed,  ma'am,"  said  Jean,  thinking 
to  herself,  "  There  can  be  no  great  sin  in  giv- 
ing her  one  mair  happy  nicht ;  it  may  be  her 
last." 

The  two  women  talked  for  a  short  time,  and 
then  read  verse  about  in  the  parlour  from  the 
third  chapter  of  Mark. 

"  This  is  the  first  night  we  have  been  left 
alone  in  the  manse,"  Margaret  said,  as  she  was 
retiring  to  her  bedroom,  "  and  we  must  not 
grudge  the  minister  to  those  who  have  sore  need 
of  him.    I  notice  that  you  have  barred  the  doors." 

"  Ay,  they're  barred.  Nobody  can  win  in  the 
nicht.'"' 

"  Nobody  will  want  in,  Jean,"  Margaret  said, 
smiling. 

"  I  dinna  ken  about  that,"  answered  Jean, 
below  her  breath.  "  Ay,  ma'am,  may  you  sleep 
for  baith  o'  us  this  nicht,  for  I  daurna  gang  to 
my  bed." 

Jean  was  both  right  and  wrong,  for  two  per- 
sons wanted  in  within  the  next  half  hour,  and  she 
opened  the  door  to  both  of  them.  The  first  to 
come  was  Babbie. 

So  long  as  women  sit  up  of  nights  listening 
for  a  footstep,  will  they  flatten  their  faces  at  the 
window,  though  all  without  be  black.  Jean  had 
not  been  back  in  the  kitchen  for  two  minutes 
before  she  raised  the  blind.  Her  eyes  were  close 
to  the  glass,  when   she  saw  another  face  almost 


404  The  Little  Minister 

meet  hers,  as  you  may  touch  your  reflection  in  a 
mirror.  But  this  face  was  not  her  own.  It  was 
white  and  sad.  Jean  suppressed  a  cry,  and  let 
the  blind  fall,  as  if  shutting  the  lid  on  some 
uncanny  thing. 

"  Won't  you  let  me  in  ?  "  said  a  voice  that 
might  have  been  only  the  sob  of  a  rain-beaten 
wind ;  "  I  am  nearly  drowned." 

Jean  stood  like  death  ;  but  her  suppliant  would 
not  pass  on. 

"  You  are  not  afraid  ? "  the  voice  continued. 
"  Raise  the  blind  again,  and  you  will  see  that  no 
one  need  fear  me." 

At  this  request  Jean's  hands  sought  each  other's 
company  behind  her  back. 

"  Wha  are  you  ?  "  she  asked,  without  stirring. 
"  Are  you  —  the  woman  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Whaur's  the  minister  ?  " 

The  rain  again  became  wild,  but  this  time  it 
only  tore  by  the  manse  as  if  to  a  conflict  beyond. 

"  Are  you  aye  there  ?  I  daurna  let  you  in  till 
I'm  sure  the  mistress  is  bedded.  Gang  round  to 
the  front,  and  see  if  there's  ony  licht  burning  in 
the  high  west  window." 

"  There  was  a  light,"  the  voice  said,  presently, 
"  but  it  was  turned  out  as  I  looked." 

"Then  I'll  let  you  in,  and  God  kens  I  mean 
no  wrang  by  it." 

Babbie  entered  shivering,  and  Jean  rebarred 
the  door.  Then  she  looked  long  at  the  woman 
whom  her  master  loved.  Babbie  was  on  her 
knees  at  the  hearth,  holding  out  her  hands  to  the 
dead  fire. 


Babbie  and  Margaret  405 

"  What  a  pity  it's  a  fause  face." 
"  Do  I  look  so  false  ?  " 
"  Is  it  true  ?     You're  no  married  to  him  ?  " 
"Yes,  it  is  true." 

"  And  yet  you  look  as  if  you  was  fond  o'  him. 
If  you  cared  for  him,  how  could  you  do  it  ?  " 
"  That  was  why  I  did  it." 
"  And  him  could'  hae  had  wha  he  liked." 
"  I  gave  up  Lord  Rintoul  for  him." 
"  What  ?     Na,  na  ;  you're  the  Egyptian." 
"  You  judge  me  by  my  dress."   . 
"And  soaking  it  is.       How  you're  shivering, 

—  what  neat  fingers,  —  what  bonny  little  feet.  I 
could  near  believe  what  you  tell  me.  Aff  wi* 
these  rags,  an'  I'll  gie  you  on  my  black  frock,  if 

—  if  you  promise  me  no  to  gang  awa  wi't." 

So  Babbie  put  on  some  clothes  of  Jean's, 
including  the  black  frock,  and  stockings  and 
shoes. 

"  Mr.  Dishart  cannot  be  back,  Jean,"  she  said, 
"  before  morning,  and  I  don't  want  his  mother  to 
see  me  till  he  comes." 

"  I  wouldna  let  you  near  her  the  nicht  though 
you  gaed  on  your  knees  to  me.  But  whaur  is 
he?" 

Babbie  explained  why  Gavin  had  set  off  for 
the  Spittal ;  but  Jean  shook  her  head  incredu- 
lously, saying,  "  I  canna  believe  you're  that  grand 
leddy,  and  yet  ilka  time  I  look  at  you  I  could 
near  believe  it." 

In  another  minute  Jean  had  something  else  to 
think  of,  for  there  came  a  loud  rap  upon  the 
front  door. 

"  It's  Tammas    Whamond    back   again,"   she 


4o6  The   Little   Minister 

moaned ;  "  and  if  the  mistress  hears,  she'll  tell 
me  to  let  him  in." 

"  You  shall  open  to  me,"  cried  a  hoarse  voice. 

"That's  no  Tammas's  word,"  Jean  said,  in 
bewilderment. 

"  It  is  Lord  Rintoul,"  Babbie  whispered. 

"  What  ?     Then  it's  truth  you  telled  me." 

The  knocking  continued ;  a  door  up-stairs 
opened,  and  Margaret  spoke  over  the  banisters. 

"  Have  vou  gone  to  bed,  Jean  ?  Some  one  is 
knocking  at  the  door,  and  a  minute  ago  I  thought 
I  heard  a  carriage  stop  close  by.  Perhaps  the 
farmer  has  driven  Mr.  Dishart  home." 

"  I'm  putting  on  my  things,  ma'am,"  Jean 
answered ;  then  whispered  to  Babbie,  "  What's 
to  be  done  ?  " 

"  He  won't  go  away,"  Babbie  answered.  "  You 
will  have  to  let  him  into  the  parlour,  Jean.  Can 
she  see  the  door  from  up  there  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  though  he  was  in  the  parlour  ?  " 

"  I  shall  go  to  him  there." 

"  Make  haste,  Jean,"  Margaret  called.  "  If  it 
is  any  persons  wanting  shelter,  we  must  give  it 
them  on  such  a  night." 

"  A  minute,  ma'am,"  Jean  answered.  To  Bab- 
bie, she  whispered,  "  What  shall  I  say  to 
her?  " 

"I  —  I  don't  know,"  answered  Babbie,  rue- 
fully. "  Think  of  something,  Jean.  But  open 
the  door  now.  Stop,  let  me  into  the  parlour 
first." 

The  two  women  stole  into  the  parlour. 

"  Tell  me  what  will  be  the  result  o'  his  coming 
here,"  entreated  Jean. 


Babbie  and   Margaret  407 

"  The  result,"  Babbie  said,  firmly,  "  will  be 
that  he  shall  go  away  and  leave  me  here." 

Margaret  heard  Jean  open  the  front  door  and 
speak  to  some  person  or  persons  whom  she 
showed  into  the  parlour. 


CHAPTER    XLI 

RINTOUL    AND    BABBIE  BREAKDOWN    OF    THE 

DEFENCE    OF    THE    MANSE 

"  TT'OU  dare  to  look  me  in  the  face  !  " 

X  They  were  Rintoul's  words.  Yet  Babbie 
had  only  ventured  to  look  up  because  he  was  so 
long  in  speaking.  His  voice  was  low,  but  harsh, 
like  a  wheel  on  which  the  brake  is  pressed  sharply. 

"  It  seems  to  be  more  than  the  man  is  capable 
of,"  he  added,  sourly. 

"  Do  you  think,"  Babbie  exclaimed,  taking 
fire,  "  that  he  is  afraid  of  you  ?  " 

"  So  it  seems  ;  but  I  will  drag  him  into  the 
light,  wherever  he  is  skulking." 

Lord  Rintoul  strode  to  the  door,  and  the  brake 
was  off  his  tongue  already. 

"  Go,"  said  Babbie,  coldly,  "  and  shout  and 
stamp  through  the  house ;  you  may  succeed  in 
frightening  the  women,  who  are  the  only  persons 
in  it." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"  He  has  gone  to  the  Spittal  to  see  you." 

"  He  knew  I  was  on  the  hill." 

"  He  lost  me  in  the  darkness,  and  thought  you 
had  run  away  with  me  in  your  trap." 

"  Ha  !  So  he  is  off  to  the  Spittal  to  ask  me 
to  give  you  back  to  him." 

"  To  compel  you,"  corrected  Babbie. 
408 


Rintoul  and   Babbie  409 

"  Pooh  !  "  said  the  earl,  nervously,  "  that  was 
but  mummery  on  the  hill." 

"It  was  a  marriage." 

"  With  gypsies  for  witnesses.  Their  word 
would  count  for  less  than  nothing.  Babbie,  I  am 
still  in  time  to  save  you." 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  saved.  The  marriage  had 
witnesses  no  court  could  discredit." 

"  What  witnesses  ?  " 

"  Mr.  McKenzie  and  yourself." 

She  heard  his  teeth  meet.  When  next  she 
looked  at  him,  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes  as  well 
as  in  her  own.  It  was  perhaps  the  first  time 
these  two  had  ever  been  in  close  sympathy.  Both 
were  grieving  for  Rintoul. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  Babbie  began,  in  a  broken 
voice ;  then  stopped,  because  they  seemed  such 
feeble  words. 

"  If  you  are  sorry,"  the  earl  answered,  eagerly, 
"  it  is  not  yet  too  late.  McKenzie  and  I  saw 
nothing.  Come  away  with  me.  Babbie,  if  only 
in  pity  for  yourself." 

"  Ah,  but  I  don't  pity  myself" 

"  Because  this  man  has  blinded  you." 

"  No,  he  has  made  me  see." 

"  This  mummery  on  the  hill  —  " 

"  Why  do  you  call  it  so  ?  I  believe  God  ap- 
proved of  that  marriage,  as  he  could  never  have 
countenanced  yours  and  mine." 

"  God  !  I  never  heard  the  word  on  your  lips 
before." 

"  I  know  that." 

"  It  is  his  teaching,  doubtless  ?  " 

"  Yes." 


4IO  The   Little   Minister 

"  And  he  told  you  that  to  do  to  me  as  you 
have  done  was  to  be  pleasing  in  God's  sight  ?  " 

"  No ;  he  knows  that  it  was  so  evil  in  God's 
sight  that  I  shall  suffer  for  it  always." 

"  But  he  has  done  no  wrong,  so  there  is  no 
punishment  for  him  ?  " 

"It  is  true  that  he  has  done  no  wrong,  but  his 
punishment  will  be  worse,  probably,  than  mine." 

"That,"  said  the  earl,  scoffing,  "is  not  just." 

"  It  is  just.  He  has  accepted  responsibility 
for  my  sins   by  marrying  me." 

"  And  what  form  is  his  punishment  to  take  ?  " 

"  For  marrying  me  he  will  be  driven  from  his 
church  and  dishonoured  in  all  men's  eyes,  unless 
—  unless  God  is  more  merciful  to  us  than  we  can 
expect." 

Her  sincerity  was  so  obvious  that  the  earl 
could  no  longer  meet  it  with  sarcasm. 

"  It  is  you  I  pity  now,"  he  said,  looking  won- 
deringly  at  her.  "  Do  you  not  see  that  this  man 
has  deceived  you  ?  Where  was  his  boasted  purity 
in  meeting  you  by  stealth,  as  he  must  have  been 
doing,  and  plotting  to  take  you  from  me  ?  " 

"  l{  you  knew  him,"  Babbie  answered,  "  you 
would  not  need  to  be  told  that  he  is  incapable  of 
that.  He  thought  me  an  ordinary  gypsy  until 
an  hour  ago." 

"  And  you  had  so  little  regard  for  me  that  you 
waited  until  the  eve  of  what  was  to  be  our  mar- 
riage, and  then,  laughing  at  my  shame,  ran  off  to 
marry  him." 

"  I  am  not  so  bad  as  that,"  Babbie  answered, 
and  told  him  what  had  brought  her  to  Thrums. 
"  I  had  no  thought  but  of  returning  to  you,  nor 


Rintoul  and  Babbie  411 

he  of  keeping  me  from  you.  We  had  said  good- 
bye at  the  mud  house  door,  —  and  then  we  heard 
your  voice." 

"  And  my  voice  was  so  horrible  to  you  that  it 
drove  you  to  this  ?  " 

"I  —  I  love  him  so  much." 

What  more  could  Babbie  answer  ?  These 
words  told  him  that,  if  love  commands,  home, 
the  friendships  of  a  lifetime,  kindnesses  incalcu- 
lable, are  at  once  as  naught.  Nothing  is  so  cruel 
as  love  if  a  rival  challenges  it  to  combat. 

"  Why  could  you  not  love  me.  Babbie  ?  "  said 
the  earl,  sadly.     "  I  have  done  so  much  for  you." 

It  was  little  he  had  done  for  her  that  was  not 
selfish.  Men  are  deceived  curiously  in  such  mat- 
ters. When  they  add  a  new  wing  to  their  house, 
they  do  not  call  the  action  virtue  ;  but  if  they 
give  to  a  fellow  creature  for  their  own  gratifica- 
tion, they  demand  of  God  a  good  mark  for  it. 
Babbie,  however,  was  in  no  mood  to  make  light 
of  the  earl's  gifts,  and  at  his  question  she  shook 
her  head  sorrowfully. 

"  Is  it  because  I  am  too  —  old?  " 

This  was  the  only  time  he  ever  spoke  of  his 
age  to  her. 

"  Oh,  no,  it  is  not  that,"  she  replied,  hastily, 
"I  love  Mr.  Dishart,  —  because  he  loves  me, 
I   think." 

"  Have  I  not  loved  you  always  ?  " 

"  Never,"  Babbie  answered,  simply.  "  If  you 
had,  perhaps  then  I  should  have  loved  you." 

"  Babbie,"  he  exclaimed,  "  if  ever  man  loved 
woman,  and  showed  it  by  the  sacrifices  he  made 
for  her,  I  —  " 


412  The   Little   Minister 

"  No,"  Babbie  said,  "  you  don't  understand 
what  it  is.     Ah  !  I  did  not  mean  to  hurt  you." 

"  If  I  don't  know  what  it  is,  what  is  it?"  he 
asked,  almost  humbly.  "  I  scarcely  know  you 
now." 

"  That  is  it,"  said  Babbie. 

She  gave  him  back  his  ring  and  then  he  broke 
down  pitifully.  Doubtless  there  was  good  in  him. 
But  I  saw  him  only  once ;  and  with  nothing  to 
contrast  against  it,  I  may  not  now  attempt  to 
breathe  life  into  the  dust  of  his  senile  passion. 
These  were  the  last  words  that  passed  between 
him  and  Babbie  : 

"  There  was  nothing,"  he  said,  wistfully,  "  in 
this  wide  world  that  you  could  not  have  had  by 
asking  me  for  it.     Was  not  that  love  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  answered.  "  What  right  have  I  to 
everything  I  cry  for  ?  " 

"  You  should  never  have  had  a  care  had  you 
married  me.     That  is  love." 

"It  is  not.  I  want  to  share  my  husband's 
cares,  as  I   expect  him  to  share  mine." 

"  I  would  have  humoured  you  in  everything." 

"  You  always  did :  as  if  a  woman's  mind  were 
for  laughing  at,  like  a  baby's  passions." 

"  You  had  your   passions,   too.   Babbie.     Yet 

did    I    ever   chide   you    for   them  ?      That   was 

1>» 
ove. 

"  No,  it  was  contempt.  Oh,"  she  cried,  pas- 
sionately, "  what  have  not  you  men  to  answer  for 
who  talk  of  love  to  a  woman  when  her  face  is  all 
you  know  of  her ;  and  her  passions,  her  aspira- 
tions, are  for  kissing  to  sleep,  her  very  soul  a 
plaything  ?     I  tell  you,  Lord   Rintoul,  and  it  is 


Rintoul  and  Babbie  413 

all  the  message  I  send  back  to  the  gentlemen  at 
the  Spittal  who  made  love  to  me  behind  your 
back,  that  this  is  a  poor  folly,  and  well  calculated 
to  rouse  the  wrath  of  God." 

Now,  Jean's  ear  had  been  to  the  parlour  key- 
hole for  a  time,  but  some  message  she  had  to  take 
to  Margaret,  and  what  she  risked  saying  was  this  : 

"  It's  Lord  Rintoul  and  a  party  that  has  been 
catched  in  the  rain,  and  he  would  be  obliged  to 
you  if  you  could  gie  his  bride  shelter  for  the 
nicht." 

Thus  the  distracted  servant  thought  to  keep 
Margaret's  mind  at  rest  until  Gavin  came  back. 

"  Lord  Rintoul ! "  exclaimed  Margaret.  "  What 
a  pity  Gavin  has  missed  him.  Of  course  she  can 
stay  here.  Did  you  say  I  had  gone  to  bed  ?  I 
should  not  know  what  to  say  to  a  lord.  But  ask 
her  to  come  up  to  me  after  he  has  gone,  —  and, 
Jean,  is  the  parlour  looking  tidy  ?  " 

Lord  Rintoul  having  departed,  Jean  told  Bab- 
bie how  she  had  accounted  to  Margaret  for  his 
visit.  "  And  she  telled  me  to  gie  you  dry 
claethes  and  her  compliments,  and  would  you 
gang  up  to  the  bedroom   and  see  her  ?  " 

Very  slowly  Babbie  climbed  the  stairs.  I  sup- 
pose she  is  the  only  person  who  was  ever  afraid 
of  Margaret.  Her  first  knock  on  the  bedroom 
door  was  so  soft  that  Margaret,  who  was  sitting 
up  in  bed,  did  not  hear  it.  When  Babbie  entered 
the  room,  Margaret's  first  thought  was  that  there 
could  be  no  other  so  beautiful  as  this,  and  her 
second  was  that  the  stranger  seemed  even  more 
timid  than  herself  After  a  few  minutes'  talk  she 
laid  aside  her  primness,  a  weapon  she  had  drawn  in 


414  The   Little   Minister 

self-defence  lest  this  fine  lady  should  not  under- 
stand the  grandeur  of  a  manse,  and  at  a  "  Call  me 
Babbie,  won't  you  ?  "  she  smiled. 

"  That  is  what  some  other  person  calls  you," 
said  Margaret,  archly.  "  Do  you  know  that  he 
took  twenty  minutes  to  say  good-night?  My 
dear,"  she  added,  hastily,  misinterpreting  Babbie's 
silence,  "  I  should  have  been  sorry  had  he  taken 
one  second  less.  Every  tick  of  the  clock  was  a 
gossip,  telling  me  how  he  loves  you." 

In  the  dim  light  a  face  that  begged  for  pity 
was  turned  to  Margaret. 

"He  does  love  you.  Babbie?"  she  asked, 
suddenly  doubtful. 

Babbie  turned  away  her  face,  then  shook  her 
head. 

"  But  you  love  him  ?  " 

Again  Babbie  shook  her  head. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,"  cried  Margaret,  in  distress, 
"  if  this  is  so,  are  you  not  afraid  to  marry  him  ?  " 

She  knew  now  that  Babbie  was  crying,  but 
she  did  not  know  why  Babbie  could  not  look  her 
in  the  face. 

"  There  may  be  times,"  Babbie  said,  most  wo- 
ful  that  she  had  not  married  Rintoul,  "  when  it  is 
best  to  marry  a  man  though  we  do  not  love  him." 

"  You  are  wrong.  Babbie,"  Margaret  answered, 
gravely  ;  "  if  I  know  anything  at  all,  it  is  that." 

"It  may  be  best  for  others." 

"  Do  you  mean  for  one  other  ? "  Margaret 
asked,  and  the  girl  bowed  her  head.  "  Ah, 
Babbie,  you   speak   like  a  child." 

"You  do  not  understand." 

"  I  do  not  need  to  be  told  the  circumstances  to 


Rintoul  and   Babbie  415 

know  this,  —  that  if  two  people  love  each  other, 
neither  has  any  right  to  give  the  other  up." 

Babbie  turned  impulsively  to  cast  herself  on 
the  mercy  of  Gavin's  mother,  but  no  word  could 
she  say  ;  a  hot  tear  fell  from  her  eyes  upon  the 
coverlet,  and  then  she  looked  at  the  door,  as  if  to 
run  away. 

"  But  I  have  been  too  inquisitive,"  Margaret 
began  ;  whereupon  Babbie  cried,  "  Oh,  no,  no, 
no ;  you  are  very  good.  I  have  no  one  who 
cares  whether  I   do  right  or  wrong." 

"  Your  parents  —  " 

"  I  have  had  none  since  I  was  a  child." 

"  It  is  the  more  reason  why  I  should  be  your 
friend,"  Margaret  said,  taking  the  girl's  hand. 

"  You  do  not  know  what  you  are  saying.  You 
cannot  be  my  friend." 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  love  you  already.  You  have  a 
good  face.  Babbie,  as  well  as  a  beautiful  one." 

Babbie  could  remain  in  the  room  no  longer. 
She  bade  Margaret  good-night,  and  bent  for- 
ward to  kiss  her ;  then  drew  back,  like  a  Judas, 
ashamed. 

"  Why  did  you  not  kiss  me  ?  "  Margaret  asked 
in  surprise,  but  poor  Babbie  walked  out  of  the 
room  without  answering. 

Of  what  occurred  at  the  manse  on  the  follow- 
ing day,  until  I  reached  it,  I  need  tell  little  more. 
When  Babbie  was  tending  Sam'l  Farquharson's 
child  in  the  Tenements,  she  learned  of  the  flood 
in  Glen  Quharity,  and  that  the  greater  part  of 
the  congregation  had  set  off  to  the  assistance 
of  the  farmers ;  but  fearful  as  this  made  her  for 


4i6 


The  Little  Minister 


Gavin's  safety,  she  kept  the  new  anxiety  from  his 
mother.  Deceived  by  another  story  of  Jean's, 
Margaret  was  the  one  happy  person  in  the  house. 

"  I  beheve  you  had  only  a  lover's  quarrel  with 
Lord  Rintoul  last  night,"  she  said  to  Babbie  in 
the  afternoon.  "  Ah,  you  see  I  can  guess  what 
is  taking  you  to  the  window  so  often.  You  must 
not  think  him  long  in  coming  for  you.  I  can 
assure  you  that  the  rain  which  keeps  my  son 
from  me  must  be  sufficiently  severe  to  separate 
even  true  lovers.  Take  an  old  woman's  example, 
Babbie.  If  I  thought  the  minister's  absence 
alarming,  I  should  be  in  anguish ;  but  as  it  is, 
my  mind  is  so  much  at  ease  that,  see,  I  can 
thread  my  needle." 

It  was  in  less  than  an  hour  after  Margaret 
spoke  thus  tranquilly  to  Babbie  that  the  pre- 
centor got  into  the  manse. 


CHAPTER  XLII 

MARGARET,    THE     PRECENTOR,    AND    GOD    BETWEEN 

UNLESS  Andrew  Luke,  who  went  to  Can- 
ada, be  still  above  ground,  I  am  now  the 
only  survivor  of  the  few  to  whom  Lang  Tammas 
told  what  passed  in  the  manse  parlour  after  the 
door  closed  on  him  and  Margaret.  With  the 
years  the  others  lost  the  details,  but  before  I  for- 
get them  the  man  who  has  been  struck  by  light- 
ning will  look  at  his  arm  without  remembering 
what  shrivelled  it.  There  even  came  a  time 
when  the  scene  seemed  more  vivid  to  me  than 
to  the  precentor,  though  that  was  only  after  he 
began  to  break  up. 

"  She  was  never  the  kind  o'  woman,"  Wha- 
mond  said,  "  that  a  body  need  be  nane  feared  at. 
You  can  see  she  is  o'  the  timid  sort.  I  couldna 
hae  selected  a  woman  easier  to  speak  bold  out  to, 
though  I  had  ha'en  my  pick  o'  them." 

He  was  a  gaunt  man,  sour  and  hard,  and  he 
often  paused  in  his  story  with  a  puzzled  look  on 
his  forbidding  face. 

"  But,  man,  she  was  so  michty  windy  o'  him. 
If  he  had  wanted  to  put  a  knife  into  her,  I 
believe  that  woman  would  just  hae  telled  him  to 
take  care  no  to  cut  his  hands.  iVy,  and  what 
innocent-like  she  was  !  If  she  had  heard  enough, 
afore  I  saw  her,  to  make  her  uneasy,  I  could  hae 

417 


41  8  The   Little   Minister 

begun  at  once;  but  here  she  was,  shaking  my 
hand  and  smiling  to  me,  so  that  aye  when  I  tried 
to  speak  I  gaed  through  ither.  Nobody  can 
despise  me  for  it,  I  tell  you,  mair  than  I  despise 
mvsel'. 

"  I  thocht  to  mysel',  '  Let  her  hae  her  smile 
out,  Tammas  Whamond ;  it's  her  hinmost.' 
Syne  wi'  shame  at  my  cowardliness,  I  tried 
to  yoke  to  my  duty  as  chief  elder  o'  the  kirk, 
and  I  said  to  her,  as  thrawn  as  I  could  speak, 
'  Dinna  thank  me;   I've  done  nothing  for  you.' 

" '  I  ken  it  wasna  for  me  you  did  it,'  she  said, 
'but  for  him;  but,  oh,  Mr.  Whamond,  will  that 
make  me  think  the  less  o'  you  ?  He's  my  all,' 
she  says,  wi'  that  smile  back  in  her  face,  and  a 
look  mixed  up  wi't  that  said  as  plain, '  and  I  need 
no  more.'  I  thocht  o'  saying  that  some  builds 
their  house  upon  the  sand,  but  —  dagont,  dominie, 
it's  a  solemn  thing  the  pride  mithers  has  in  their 
laddies.  I  mind  aince  my  ain  mither  —  what  the 
devil  are  you  glowering  at,  Andrew  Luke  ?  Do 
you  think  I'm  greeting  ^ 

" '  You'll  sit  down,  Mr.  Whamond,'  she  says 
next. 

" '  No,  I  winna,'  I  said,  angry-like.  *  I  didna 
come  here  to  sit.' 

"  I  could  see  she  thocht  I  was  shy  at  being  in 
the  manse  parlour ;  ay,  and  I  thocht  she  was 
pleased  at  me  looking  shy.  Weel,  she  took  my 
hat  out  o'  my  hand,  and  she  put  it  on  the  chair 
at  the  door,  whaur  there's  aye  an  auld  chair  in 
grand  houses  for  the  servant  to  sit  on  at  family 
exercise. 

"*  You're   a   man,  Mr.  Whamond,'  says  she, 


Margaret  and   the    Precentor  419 

'  that  the  minister  delights  to  honour,  and  so 
you'll  oblige  me  by  sitting  in  his  own  armchair.'  " 

Gavin  never  quite  delighted  to  honour  the 
precentor,  of  whom  he  was  always  a  little  afraid, 
and  perhaps  Margaret  knew  it.  But  you  must 
not  think  less  of  her  for  wanting  to  gratify  her 
son's  chief  elder.  She  thought,  too,  that  he  had 
just  done  her  a  service.  1  never  yet  knew  a 
good  woman  who  did  not  enjoy  flattering  men 
she  liked. 

"  I  saw  my  chance  at  that,"  Whamond  went 
on,  "and  I  says  to  her,  sternly, '  In  worldly  posi- 
tion,' I  says,  '  I'm  a  common  man,  and  it's  no 
for  the  like  o'  sic  to  sit  in  a  minister's  chair ; 
but  it  has  been  God's  will,'  I  says,  '  to  wrap 
around  me  the  mantle  o'  chief  elder  o'  the  kirk, 
and  if  the  minister  falls  awa  frae  grace,  it  becomes 
my  duty  to  take  his  place.' 

"  If  she  had  been  looking  at  me,  she  maun  hae 
grown  feared  at  that,  and  syne  I  could  hae  gone 
on  though  my  ilka  word  was  a  knock-down  blow. 
But  she  was  picking  some  things  aff  the  chair  to 
let  me  down  on't. 

"'It's  a  pair  o'  mittens  I'm  working  for  the 
minister,'  she  says,  and  she  handed  them  to  me. 
Ay,  I  tried  no  to  take  them,  but —  Oh,  lads, 
it's  queer  to  think  how  saft  I  was. 

" '  He's  no  to  ken  about  them  till  they're  fin- 
ished,' she  says,  terrible  fond-like. 

"  The  words  came  to  my  mouth,  '  They'll 
never  be  finished,'  and  I  could  hae  cursed  mysel' 
for  no  saying  them.  I  dinna  ken  how  it  was, 
but  there  was  something  pitiful  in  seeing  her  take 
up  the  mittens  and  begin  working  cheerily  at  one. 


420  The   Little   Minister 

and  me  kenning  all  the  time  that  they  would 
never  be  finished.  I  watched  her  fingers,  and  I 
said  to  mysel',  '  Another  stitch,  and  that  maun 
be  your  last.'  I  said  that  to  mysel'  till  I  thocht 
it  was  the  needle  that  said  it,  and  I  wondered  at 
her  no  hearing. 

"  In  the  tail  o'  the  day  I  says,  '  You  needna 
bother;  he'll  never  wear  them,'  and  they  sounded 
sic  words  o'  doom  that  I  rose  up  off  the  chair. 
Ay,  but  she  took  me  up  wrang,  and  she  said,  '  I 
see  you  have  noticed  how  careless  o'  his  ain 
comforts  he  is,  and  that  in  his  zeal  he  forgets  to 
put  on  his  mittens,  though  they  may  be  in  his 
pocket  a'  the  time.  Ay,'  says  she,  confident-like, 
'  but  he  winna  forget  these  mittens,  Mr.  Wha- 
mond,  and  I'll  tell  you  the  reason  :  it's  because 
they're  his  mother's  work.' 

"  I  stamped  my  foot,  and  she  gae  me  an  apolo- 
getic look,  and  she  says,  '  I  canna  help  boasting 
about  his  being  so  fond  o'  me.' 

"  Ay,  but  here  was  me  saying  to  mysel',  '  Do 
your  duty,  Tammas  Whamond ;  you  sluggard, 
do  your  duty,'  and  without  lifting  my  een  frae 
her  fingers  I  said,  sternly,  '  The  chances  are,'  I 
said,  '  that  these  mittens  will  never  be  worn  by 
the  hands  they  are  worked  for.' 

" '  You  mean,'  says  she,  '  that  he'll  gie  them 
awa  to  some  ill-off  body,  as  he  gies  near  a'  thing 
he  has  ?  Ay,  but  there's  one  thing  he  never 
parts  wi',  and  that's  my  work.  There's  a  young 
lady  in  the  manse  the  now,'  says  she,  '  that 
offered  to  finish  the  mittens  for  me,  but  he  would 
value  them  less  if  I  let  ony  other  body  put  a 
stitch  into  them.' 


Margaret  and   the  Precentor  421 

"  I  thocht  to  mysel',  '  Tammas  Whamond,  the 
Lord  has  opened  a  door  to  you,  and  you'll  be 
disgraced  for  ever  if  you  dinna  walk  straucht  in.' 
So   I   rose  again,  and    I    says,  boldly,  this  time, 

*  Whaur's  that  young  leddy  ?  I  hae  something 
to  say  to  her  that  canna  be  kept  waiting.' 

"  '  She's  up  the  stair,'  she  says,  surprised,  '  but 
you  canna  ken  her,  Mr.  Whamond,  for  she  just 
came  last  nicht.' 

" '  I  ken  mair  o'  her  than  you  think,'  says  I  ; 

*  I  ken  what  brocht  her  here,  and  ken  wha  she 
thinks  she  is  to  be  married  to,  and  I've  come  to 
tell  her  that  she'll  never  get  him.' 

" '  How  no  ? '  she  said,  amazed-like. 

" '  Because,'  said  I,  wi'  my  teeth  thegither,  '  he 
is  already  married.' 

"  Lads,  I  stood  waiting  to  see  her  fall,  and 
when  she  didna  fall  I  just  waited  langer,  thinking 
she  was  slow  in  taking  it  a'  in. 

" '  I  see  you  ken  wha  she  is,'  she  said,  looking 
at  me,  '  and  yet  I  canna  credit  your  news.' 

"  '  They're  true,'  I  cries. 

"  '  Even  if  they  are,'  says  she,  considering,  '  it 
may  be  the  best  thing  that  could  happen  to  baith 
o'  them.' 

"  I  sank  back  in  the  chair  in  fair  bewilderment, 
for  I  didna  ken  at  that  time,  as  we  a'  ken  now, 
that  she  was  thinking  o'  the  earl  when  I  was 
thinking  o'  her  son.  Dominie,  it  looked  to  me 
as  if  the  Lord  had  opened  a  door  to  me,  and  syne 
shut  it  in  my  face. 

"Syne  wi'  me  sitting  there  in  a  kind  o'  awe  o' 
the  woman's  simpleness,  she  began  to  tell  me 
what  the  minister  was  like  when  he  was  a  bairn, 


422  The   Little   Minister 

and  I  was  saying  a'  the  time  to  mysel',  '  You're 
chief  elder  o'  the  kirk,  Tammas  Whamond,  and 
you  maun  speak  out  the  next  time  she  stops  to 
draw  breath.'  They  were  terrible  sma',  common 
things  she  telled  me,  sic  as  near  a'  mithers  minds 
about  their  bairns,  but  the  kind  o'  holy  way  she 
said  them  drove  my  words  down  my  throat,  like 
as  if  I  was  some  infidel  man  trying  to  break  out 
wi'  blasphemy  in  a  kirk. 

"  '  I'll  let  you  see  something,'  says  she,  *  that  I 
ken  will  interest  you.'  She  brocht  it  out  o'  a 
drawer,  and  what  do  you  think  it  was  ?  As  sure 
as  death  it  was  no  more  than  some  o'  his  hair 
when  he  was  a  litlin,  and  it  was  tied  up  sic  care- 
fully in  paper  that  you  would  hae  thocht  it  was 
some  valuable  thing. 

"  '  Mr.  Whamond,'  she  says,  solemnly,  *  you've 
come  thrice  to  the  manse  to  keep  me  frae  being 
uneasy  about  my  son's  absence,  and  you  was  the 
chief  instrument  under  God  in  bringing  him  to 
Thrums,  and  I'll  gie  you  a  little  o'  that  hair.' 

"  Dagont,  what  did  I  care  about  his  hair  ?  and 
yet  to  see  her  fondling  it !  I  says  to  mysel', 
'  Mrs.  Dishart,'  I  says  to  mysel',  *  I  was  the 
chief  instrument  under  God  in  bringing  him  to 
Thrums,  and  I've  come  here  to  tell  you  that  I'm 
to  be  the  chief  instrument  under  God  in  driving 
him  out  o't.'  Ay,  but  when  I  focht  to  bring  out 
these  words,  my  mouth  snecked  like  a  box. 

" '  Dinna  gie  me  his  hair,'  was  a'  I  could  say, 
and  I  wouldna  take  it  frae  her ;  but  she  laid  it  in 
my  hand,  and  —  and  svne  what  could  I  do?  Ay, 
it's  easy  to  speak  about  thae  things  now,  and  to 
wonder  how  I  could  hae  so  disgraced  the  position 


Margaret  and   the   Precentor  423 

o'  chief  elder  o'  the  kirk,  but  I  tell  you  I  was 
near  greeting  for  the  woman.  Call  me  names, 
dominie  ;   I  deserve  them  all." 

I  did  not  call  Whamond  names  for  being 
reluctant  to  break  Margaret's  heart.  Here  is  a 
confession  I  may  make.  Sometimes  I  say  my 
prayers  at  night  in  a  hurry,  going  on  my  knees 
indeed,  but  with  as  little  reverence  as  I  take  a 
drink  of  water  before  jumping  into  bed,  and  for 
the  same  reason,  because  it  is  my  nightly  habit. 
I  am  only  pattering  words  I  have  by  heart  to  a 
chair  then,  and  should  be  as  well  employed  writ- 
ing a  comic  Bible.  At  such  times  I  pray  for  the 
earthly  well-being  of  the  precentor,  though  he 
has  been  dead  for  many  years.  He  crept  into 
my  prayers  the  day  he  told  me  this  story,  and 
was  part  of  them  for  so  long  that  when  they  are 
only  a  recitation  he  is  part  of  them  still. 

"  She  said  to  me,"  Whamond  continued,  "  that 
the  women  o'  the  congregation  would  be  fond  to 
handle  the  hair.  Could  I  tell  her  that  the  women 
was  waur  agin  him  than  the  men  ?  I  shivered  to 
hear  her. 

"  *  Syne  w  hen  they're  a'  sitting  breathless 
listening  to  his  preaching,'  she  says,  '  they'll  be 
able  to  picture  him  as  a  bairn,  just  as  I  often  do 
in  the  kirk  mysel'.' 

"  Andrew  Luke,  you're  sneering  at  me,  but  I 
tell  you  if  you  had  been  there  and  had  begun  to 
say,  '  He'll  preach  in  our  kirk  no  more,'  I  would 
hae  struck  you.     And  I'm  chief  elder  o'  the  kirk. 

"  She  says,  '  Oh,  Mr.  Whamond,  there's  times 
in  the  kirk  when  he  is  praying,  and  the  glow  on 
his  face  is  hardly  mortal,  so  that  I  fall  a-shaking. 


424  The   Little   Minister 

wi'  a  mixture  o'  fear  and  pride,  me  being  his 
mother ;  and  sinful  though  I  am  to  say  it,  I 
canna  help  thinking  at  sic  times  that  I  ken  what 
the  mother  o'  Jesus  had  in  her  heart  when  she 
found  Him  in  the  temple.' 

"  Dominie,  it's  sax  and  twenty  years  since  I 
was  made  an  elder  o'  the  kirk.  I  mind  the  day 
as  if  it  was  yestreen.  Mr.  Carfrae  made  me  walk 
hame  wi'  him,  and  he  took  me  into  the  manse 
parlour,  and  he  set  me  in  that  very  chair.  It  was 
the  first  time  I  was  ever  in  the  manse.  Ay,  he 
little  thocht  that  day  in  his  earnestness,  and  I 
little  thocht  mysel'  in  the  pride  o'  my  lusty  youth, 
that  the  time  was  coming  when  I  would  swear  in 
that  reverenced  parlour.  I  say  swear,  dominie,  for 
when  she  had  finished  I  jumped  to  my  feet,  and 
I  cried,  '  Hell ! '  and  I  lifted  up  my  hat.  And  I 
was  chief  elder. 

"  She  fell  back  frae  my  oath,"  he  said,  "  and 
syne  she  took  my  sleeve  and  speired,  *  What 
has  come  ower  you,  Mr.  Whamond  ?  Hae  you 
onything  on  your  mind  ? ' 

"'I've  sin  on  it,'  I  roared  at  her.  'I  have 
neglect  o'  duty  on  it.  I  am  one  o'  them  that 
cries  "  Lord,  Lord,"  and  yet  do  not  the  things 
which  He  commands.  He  has  pointed  out  the 
way  to  me,  and  I  hinna  followed  it.' 

" '  What  is  it  you  hinna  done  that  you  should 
hae  done  ?  '  she  said.  '  Oh,  Mr.  Whamond,  if 
you  want  my  help,  it's  yours.' 

"  *  Your  son's  a'  the  earth  to  you,'  I  cried, 
'  but  my  eldership's  as  muckle  to  me.  Sax  and 
twenty  years  hae  I  been  an  elder,  and  now  I  maun 
gie  it  up.' 


Margaret  and   the   Precentor  4C15 

"  '  Wha  says  that  ?  '   she  speirs. 

"  '  I  say  it,'  I  cried.  '  I've  shirked  my  duty. 
I  gie  up  my  eldership  now.  Tammas  Whamond 
is  no  langer  an  elder  o'  the  kirk  ; '  ay,  and  1  was 
chief  elder. 

"  Dominie,  I  think  she  began  to  say  that  when 
the  minister  came  hame  he  wouldna  accept  my 
resignation,  but  I  paid  no  need  to  her.  You  ken 
what  was  the  sound  that  keeped  my  ears  frae  her 
words ;  it  was  the  sound  o'  a  machine  coming 
yont  the  Tenements.  You  ken  what  was  the  sicht 
that  made  me  glare  through  the  window  instead 
o'  looking  at  her  ;  it  was  the  sicht  o'  Mr.  Dish- 
art  in  the  machine.  I  couldna  speak,  but  I  got 
my  body  atween  her  and  the  window,  for  I  heard 
shouting,  and  I  couldna  doubt  that  it  was  the 
folk  cursing  him. 

"  But  she  heard  too,  she  heard  too,  and  she 
squeezed  by  me  to  the  window.  I  couldna  look 
out ;  I  just  walked  saft-like  to  the  parlour  door, 
but  afore  1  reached  it  she  cried,  joyously  : 

"  '  It's  my  son  come  back,  and  see  how  fond  o' 
him  they  are  !  They  are  running  at  the  side 
o'  the  machine,  and  the  laddies  are  tossing  their 
bonnets  in  the  air.' 

"  '  God  help  you,  woman  ! '  I  said  to  mysel', 
*  it  canna  be  bonnets,  —  it's  stanes  and  divits  mair 
likely  that  they're  flinging  at  him.'  Syne  I 
creeped  out  o'  the  manse.  Dominie,  you  mind 
I  passed  you  in  the  kitchen,  and  didna  say  a 
word  ?  " 

Yes,  I  saw  the  precentor  pass  through  the 
kitchen,  with  such  a  face  on  him  as  no  man  ever 
saw  him  wear  again.     Since  Tammas  Whamond 


426  The   Little   Minister 

died  we  have  had  to  enlarge  the  Thrums  cemetery 
twice  ;  so  it  can  matter  not  at  all  to  him,  and  but 
little  to  me,  what  you  who  read  think  of  him. 
All  his  life  children  ran  from  him.  He  was  the 
dourest,  the  most  unlovable  man  in  Thrums. 
But  may  my  right  hand  wither,  and  may  my 
tongue  be  cancer-bitten,  and  may  my  mind  be  I 
gone  into  a  dry  rot  before  I  forget  what  he  did 
for  me  and  mine  that  day  ! 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

RAIN MIST THE    JAWS 

TO  this  day  we  argue  in  the  glen  about  the 
sound  mistaken  by  many  of  us  for  the  firing 
of  the  Spittal  cannon,  some  calHng  it  thunder  and 
others  the  tearing  of  trees  in  the  torrent.  1  think 
it  must  have  been  the  roll  of  stones  into  the 
Quharity  from  Silver  Hill,  of  which  a  corner  has 
been  missing  since  that  day.  Silver  Hill  is  all 
stones,  as  if  creation  had  been  riddled  there,  and 
in  the  sun  the  mica  on  them  shines  like  many 
pools  of  water. 

At  the  roar,  as  they  thought,  of  the  cannon,  the 
farmers  looked  up  from  their  struggle  with  the 
flood  to  say  "  That's  Rintoul  married,"  as  clocks 
pause  simultaneously  to  strike  the  hour.  Then 
every  one  in  the  glen  save  Gavin  and  myself  was 
done  with  Rintoul.  Before  the  hills  had  answered 
the  noise,  Gavin  was  on  his  way  to  the  Spittal. 
The  dog  must  have  been  ten  minutes  in  overtak- 
ing him,  yet  he  maintained  afterward  that  it  was 
with  him  from  the  start.  From  this  we  see  that 
the  shock  he  had  got  carried  him  some  distance 
before  he  knew  that  he  had  left  the  school  house. 
It  also  gave  him  a  new  strength,  that  happily 
lasted  longer  than  his  daze  of  mind. 

Gavin  moved  northward  quicker  than  I  came 
south,  climbing  over  or  wading  through  his  obsta- 

427 


428  The   Little   Minister 

cles,  while  I  went  round  mine.  After  a  time,  too, 
the  dog  proved  useful,  for  on  discovering  that  it 
was  going  homeward  it  took  the  lead,  and  several 
times  drew  him  to  the  right  road  to  the  Spittal  by 
refusing  to  accompany  him  on  the  wrong  road. 
Yet  in  two  hours  he  had  walked  perhaps  nine 
miles  without  being  four  miles  nearer  the  Spittal. 
In  that  flood  the  glen  milestones  were  three  miles 
apart. 

For  some  time  he  had  been  following  the  dog 
doubtfully,  for  it  seemed  to  be  going  too  near  the 
river.  When  they  struck  a  cart-track,  however, 
he  concluded  rightly  that  they  were  nearing  a 
bridge.  His  faith  in  his  guide  was  again  tested 
before  they  had  been  many  minutes  on  this  sloppy 
road.  The  dog  stopped,  whined,  looked  irreso- 
lute, and  then  ran  to  the  right,  disappearing  into 
the  mist  in  an  instant.  He  shouted  to  it  to  come 
back,  and  was  surprised  to  hear  a  whistle  in  reply. 
This  was  sufficient  to  make  him  dash  after  the 
dog,  and  in  less  than  a  minute  he  stopped 
abruptly  by  the  side  of  a  shepherd. 

"  Have  you  brocht  it?  "  the  man  cried,  almost 
into  Gavin's  ear ;  yet  the  roar  of  the  water  was  so 
tremendous  that  the  words  came  faintly,  as  if  from 
a  distance.  "  Wae  is  me ;  is  it  only  you,  Mr. 
Dishart  ?  " 

"  Is  it  only  you  !  "  No  one  in  the  glen  would 
have  addressed  a  minister  thus  except  in  a  matter 
of  life  or  death,  and  Gavin  knew  it. 

"  He'll  be  ower  late,"  the  shepherd  exclaimed, 
rubbing  his  hands  together  in  distress.  "  I'm 
speaking  o'  Whinbusses'  grieve.  He  has  run 
for  ropes,  but  he'll  be  ower  late." 


Rain  —  Mist  —  The  Jaws  429 

"  Is  there  some  one  in  danger?  "  asked  Gavin, 
who  stood,  he  knew  not  where,  with  this  man, 
enveloped  in  mist. 

"  Is  there  no  ?     Look  !  " 

"  There  is  nothing  to  be  seen  but  mist ;  where 
are  we  ? " 

"  We're  on  the  high  bank  o'  the  Ouharity. 
Take  care,  man  ;  you  was  stepping  ower  into  the 
roaring  water.  Lie  down  and  tell  me  if  he's  there 
yet.  Maybe  I  just  think  that  I  see  him,  for  the 
sicht  is  painted  on  my  een." 

Gavin  lay  prone  and  peered  at  the  river,  but 
the  mist  came  up  to  his  eyes.  He  only  knew 
that  the  river  was  below  from  the  sound. 

"  Is  there  a  man  down  there  ? "  he  asked, 
shuddering. 

"  There  was  a  minute  syne  ;  on  a  bit  island." 

"  Why  does  he  not  speak  ?  " 

"He  is  senseless.  Dinna  move;  the  mist's 
clearing,  and  you'll  see  if  he's  there  syne.  The 
mist  has  been  lifting  and  falling  that  way  ilka 
minute  since  me  and  the  grieve  saw  him." 

The  mist  did  not  rise.  It  only  shook  like  a 
blanket,  and  then  again  remained  stationary.  But 
in  that  movement  Gavin  had  seen  twice,  first 
incredulously,  and  then  with  conviction. 

"  Shepherd,"  he  said,  rising,  "  it  is  Lord 
Rintoul." 

"  Ay,  it's  him  ;  and  you  saw  his  feet  was  in 
the  water.  They  were  dry  when  the  grieve  left 
me.  Mr.  Dishart,  the  ground  he  is  on  is  being 
washed  awa  bit  by  bit.  I  tell  you,  the  flood's 
greedy  for  him,  and  it'll  hae  him  —  Look,  did 
you  see  him  again  ?  " 


430  The   Little   Minister 

"  Is  he  living?  " 

"  We  saw  him  move.    Hst !    Was  that  a  cry  ?  " 

It  was  only  the  howling  of  the  dog,  which  had 
recognised  its  master,  and  was  peering  over  the 
bank,  the  body  quivering  to  jump,  but  the  legs 
restless  with  indecision. 

"If  we  were  down  there,"  Gavin  said,  "we 
could  hold  him  secure  till  rescue  comes.  It  is 
no  great  jump." 

"  How  far  would  you  make  it  ?  1  saw  him 
again  !  " 

"It  looked  farther  that  time." 

"  That's  it !  Sometimes  the  ground  he  is  on 
looks  so  near  that  vou  think  you  could  almost 
drop  on  it,  and  the  next  time  it's  yards  and  yards 
awa.  I've  stood  ready  for  the  spring,  Mr.  Dish- 
art,  a  dozen  times,  but  I  aye  sickened.  I  daurna 
do  it.  Look  at  the  dog ;  just  when  it's  starting 
to  jump,  it  pulls  itsel'  back." 

As  if  it  had  heard  the  shepherd,  the  dog 
jumped  at  that  instant. 

"It  sprang  too  far,"  Gavin  said. 

"It  didna  spring  far  enough." 

They  waited,  and  presently  the  mist  thinned 
for  a  moment,  as  if  it  was  being  drawn  out. 
They  saw  the  earl,  but  there  was  no  dog. 

"  Poor  brute,"  said  the  shepherd,  and  looked 
with  awe  at  Gavin. 

"  Rintoul  is  slipping  into  the  water,"  Gavin 
answered.     "  You  won't  jump  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  wae  for  him,  and  —  " 

"Then  I  will,"  Gavin  was  about  to  say,  but 
the  shepherd  continued,  "  And  him  only  married 
twa  hours  syne." 


Rain — Mist  —  The  Jaws  431 

That  kept  the  words  in  Gavin's  mouth  for  half 
a  minute,  and  then  he  spoke  them. 

"  Dinna  think  o't,"  cried  the  shepherd,  taking 
him  by  the  coat,  "  The  ground  he  is  on  is 
slippery.  I've  flung  a  dozen  stanes  at  it,  and 
them  that  hit  it  slithered  off.  Though  you 
landed  in  the  middle  o't,  you  would  slide  into 
the  water." 

"  He  shook  himsel'  free  o'  me,"  the  shepherd 
told  afterward,  "  and  I  saw  him  bending  down 
and  measuring  the  distance  wi'  his  een  as  cool  as 
if  he  was  calculating  a  drill  o'  tatties.  Syne  I 
saw  his  lips  moving  in  prayer.  It  wasna  spunk 
he  needed  to  pray  for,  though.  Next  minute 
there  was  me,  my  very  arms  prigging  wi'  him  to 
think  better  o't,  and  him  standing  ready  to  loup, 
his  knees  bent,  and  not  a  tremble  in  them.  The 
mist  lifted,  and  I  —  Lads,  I  couldna  gie  a  look 
to  the  earl.  Mr.  Dishart  jumped ;  I  hardly  saw 
him,  but  I  kent.  I  kent,  for  I  was  on  the  bank 
alane.  What  did  I  do  ?  I  flung  mysel'  down  in 
a  sweat,  and  if  een  could  bore  mist,  mine  would 
hae  done  it.  I  thocht  I  heard  the  minister's 
death-cry,  and  may  I  be  struck  if  I  dinna  believe 
now  that  it  was  a  skirl  o'  my  ain.  After  that 
there  was  no  sound  but  the  jaw  o'  the  water ;  and 
I  prayed,  but  no  to  God,  to  the  mist  to  rise, 
and  after  an  awful  time  it  rose,  and  I  saw  the 
minister  was  safe ;  he  had  pulled  the  earl  into 
the  middle  o'  the  bit  island,  and  was  rubbing  him 
back  to  consciousness.      I  sweat  when  I  think  o't 

"^  .  .    .        ,     .  .  c 

The  little  minister's  jump  is  always  spoken  of 

as  a  brave  act  in  the  glen,  but  at  such  times  I  am 


432  The   Little   Minister 

silent.  This  is  not  because,  being  timid  myself, 
I  am  without  admiration  for  courage.  My  little 
maid  says  that  three  in  every  four  of  my  poems 
are  to  the  praise  of  prowess,  and  she  has  not 
forgotten  how  I  carried  her  on  my  shoulder  once 
to  Tilliedrum  to  see  a  soldier  who  had  won  the 
Victoria  Cross,  and  made  her  shake  hands  with 
him,  though  he  was  very  drunk.  Only  last  year 
one  of  my  scholars  declared  to  me  that  Nelson 
never  said  "  England  expects  every  man  this  day 
to  do  his  duty,"  for  which  I  thrashed  the  boy 
and  sent  him  to  the  cooling-stone.  But  was  it 
brave  of  Gavin  to  jump  ?  I  have  heard  some 
maintain  that  only  misery  made  him  so  bold,  and 
others  that  he  jumped  because  it  seemed  a  fine 
thing  to  risk  his  life  for  an  enemy.  But  these 
are  really  charges  of  cowardice,  and  my  boy  was 
never  a  coward.  Of  the  two  kinds  of  courage, 
however,  he  did  not  then  show  the  nobler.  I 
am  glad  that  he  was  ready  for  such  an  act,  but  he 
should  have  remembered  Margaret  and  Babbie. 
As  it  was,  he  may  be  said  to  have  forced  them  to 
jump  with  him.  Not  to  attempt  a  gallant  deed 
for  which  one  has  the  impulse,  may  be  braver 
than  the  doing  of  it. 

"  Though  it  seemed  as  lang  time,"  the  shep- 
herd says,  "  as  I  could  hae  run  up  a  hill  in,  I 
dinna  suppose  it  was  many  minutes  afore  I  saw 
Rintoul  opening  and  shutting  his  een.  The 
next  glint  I  had  o'  them  they  were  speaking  to 
ane  another  ;  ay,  and  mair  than  speaking.  They 
were  quarrelling.  I  couldna  hear  their  words, 
but  there  was  a  moment  when  I  thocht  they  were 
to   grapple.      Lads,  the  memory  o'    that'll    hing 


Rain — Mist  —  The  Jaws  433 

about  my  death-bed.  There  was  twa  men,  edi- 
cated  to  the  highest  pitch,  ane  a  lord  and  the 
other  a  minister,  and  the  flood  was  taking  awa  a 
mouthful  o'  their  footing  ilka  minute,  and  the 
jaws  o'  destruction  was  gaping  for  them,  and  yet 
they  were  near  fechting.  We  ken  now  it  was 
about  a  woman.  Ay,  but  does  that  make  it  less 
awful  ? " 

No,  that  did  not  make  it  less  awful.  It  was 
even  awful  that  Gavin's  first  words  when  Rintoul 
opened  his  eyes  and  closed  them  hastily  were, 
"  Where  is  she  ?  "  The  earl  did  not  answer ; 
indeed,  for  the  moment  the  words  had  no  mean- 
ing to  him. 

"  How  did  I  come  here  ?  "  he  asked,  feebly. 

"You  should  know  better  than  I.  Where  is 
my  wife  ?  " 

"  I  remember  now,"  Rintoul  repeated  several 
times.  "  Yes,  I  had  left  the  Spittal  to  look  for 
you,  —  you  were  so  long  in  coming.  How  did  I 
find  you  ?  " 

"  It  was  I  who  found  you,"  Gavin  answered. 
"  You  must  have  been  swept  away  by  the  flood." 

"  And  you,  too  ?  " 

In  a  few  words  Gavin  told  how  he  came  to  be 
beside  the  earl. 

"  I  suppose  they  will  say  you  have  saved  my 
life,"  was  Rintoul's  commentary. 

"  It  is  not  saved  yet.  If  help  does  not  come, 
we  shall  be  dead  men  in  an  hour.  What  have 
you  done  with  my  wife  ?  " 

Rintoul  ceased  to  listen  to  him,  and  shouted 
sums  of  money  to  the  shepherd,  who  shook  his 
head  and  bawled  an  answer  that  neither  Gavin  nor 


434  "I'^"^^   Little   Minister 

the  earl  heard.  Across  that  thundering  water 
only  Gavin's  voice  could  carry,  the  most  powerful 
ever  heard  in  a  Thrums  pulpit,  the  one  voice  that 
could  be  heard  all  over  the  Commonty  during  the 
time  of  the  tent-preaching.  Yet  he  never  roared, 
as  some  preachers  do  of  whom  we  say,  "Ah,  if 
they  could  hear  the  little  minister's  word  !  " 

Gavin  caught  the  gesticulating  earl  by  the 
sleeve  and  said,  "  Another  man  has  gone  for 
ropes.  Now,  listen  to  me  ;  how  dared  you  go 
through  a  marriage  ceremony  with  her,  knowing 
her  already  to  be  my  wife  ?  " 

Rintoul  did  listen  this  time. 

"How  do  you  know  1  married  her?"  he 
asked,  sharply, 

"  I  heard  the  cannon." 

Now  the  earl  understood,  and  the  shadow  on 
his  face  shook  and  lifted,  and  his  teeth  gleamed. 
His  triumph  might  be  short-lived,  but  he  would 
enjoy  it  while  he  could. 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  picking  the  pebbles  for 
his  sling  with  care,  "  you  must  know  that  I  could 
not  have  married  her  against  her  will.  The  frolic 
on  the  hill  amused  her,  but  she  feared  you  might 
think  it  serious,  and  so  pressed  me  to  proceed 
with  her  marriage  to-day  despite  the  flood." 

This  was  the  point  at  which  the  shepherd  saw 
the  minister  raise  his  fist.  It  fell,  however,  with- 
out striking. 

"  Do  you  really  think  that  I  could  doubt  her?" 
Gavin  said,  compassionately,  and  for  the  second 
time  in  twenty-four  hours  the  earl  learned  that 
he  did  not  know  what  love  is. 

For  a  full   minute  they   had   forgotten  where 


Rain — Mist  —  Tiie  Jaws  435 

they  were.  Now,  again,  the  water  seemed  to 
break  loose,  so  that  both  remembered  their 
danger  simultaneously  and  looked  up.  The 
mist  parted  for  long  enough  to  show  them 
that  where  had  only  been  the  shepherd  was 
now  a  crowd  of  men,  with  here  and  there  a 
woman.  Before  the  mist  again  came  between  the 
minister  had  recognised  many  members  of  his 
congregation. 

In  his  unsuccessful  attempt  to  reach  Whin- 
busses,  the  grieve  had  met  the  relief  party  from 
Thrums.  Already  the  weavers  had  helped  Waster 
Lunny  to  stave  off  ruin,  and  they  were  now  on 
their  way  to  Whinbusses,  keeping  together 
through  fear  of  mist  and  water.  Every  few 
minutes  Snecky  Hobart  rang  his  bell  to  bring 
in  stragglers. 

"  Follow  me,"  was  all  the  panting  grieve  could 
say  at  first,  but  his  agitation  told  half  his  story. 
They  went  with  him  patiently,  only  stopping 
once,  and  then  excitedly,  for  they  came  suddenly 
on  Rob  Dow.  Rob  was  still  lying  a  prisoner 
beneath  the  tree,  and  the  grieve  now  remembered 
that  he  had  fallen  over  this  tree,  and  neither 
noticed  the  man  under  it  nor  been  noticed  by  the 
man.  Fifty  hands  released  poor  Dow,  and  two 
men  were  commissioned  to  bring  him  along 
slowly  while  the  others  hurried  to  the  rescue  of 
the  earl.  They  were  amazed  to  learn  from  the 
shepherd  that  Mr.  Dishart  also  was  in  danger, 
and  after  "  Is  there  a  woman  wi'  him  ?  "  some 
cried,  "  He'll  get  off  cheap  wi'  drowning,"  and 
"  It's  the  judgment  o'  God." 


436  The  Little  Minister 

The  island  on  which  the  two  men  stood  was 
now  little  bigger  than  the  round  tables  common 
in  Thrums,  and  its  centre  was  some  feet  farther 
from  the  bank  than  when  Gavin  jumped.  A 
woman,  looking  down  at  it,  sickened,  and  would 
have  toppled  into  the  water,  had  not  John  Spens 
clutched  her.  Others  were  so  stricken  with  awe 
that  they  forgot  they  had  hands. 

Peter  Tosh,  the  elder,  cast  a  rope  many  times, 
but  it  would  not  carry.  The  one  end  was  then 
weighted  with  a  heavy  stone,  and  the  other  tied 
round  the  waists  of  two  men.  But  the  force  of 
the  river  had  been  underestimated.  The  stone 
fell  short  into  the  torrent,  which  rushed  off  with 
it  so  furiously  that  the  men  were  flung  upon  their 
faces  and  trailed  to  the  verge  of  the  precipice. 
A  score  of  persons  sprang  to  their  rescue,  and  the 
rope  snapped.  There  was  only  one  other  rope, 
and  its  fate  was  not  dissimilar.  This  time  the 
stone  fell  into  the  water  beyond  the  island,  and 
immediately  rushed  down  the  stream.  Gavin 
seized  the  rope,  but  it  pressed  against  his  body, 
and  would  have  pushed  him  off  his  feet  had  not 
Tosh  cut  it.  The  trunk  of  the  tree  that  had 
fallen  on  Rob  Dow  was  next  dragged  to  the  bank 
and  an  endeavour  made  to  form  a  sloping  bridge 
of  it.  The  island,  however,  was  now  soft  and 
unstable,  and,  though  the  trunk  was  successfully 
lowered,  it  only  knocked  lumps  off  the  island, 
and  finally  it  had  to  be  let  go,  as  the  weavers 
could  not  pull  it  back.  It  splashed  into  the 
water,  and  was  at  once  whirled  out  of  sight. 
Some  of  the  party  on  the  bank  began  hastily  to 
improvise  a  rope  of  cravats  and  the  tags  of  the 


Rain  —  Mist  —  The  Jaws  437 

ropes  still  left,  but  the  mass  stood  helpless  and 
hopeless. 

"  You  may  wonder  that  we  could  have  stood 
still,  waiting  to  see  the  last  o'  them,"  Birse,  the 
post,  has  said  to  me  in  the  schoolhouse,  "  but, 
dominie,  I  couldna  hae  moved,  magre  my  neck. 
I'm  a  hale  man,  but  if  this  minute  we  was  to 
hear  the  voice  o'  the  Almighty  saying  solemnly, 
'  Afore  the  clock  strikes  again,  Birse,  the  post, 
will  fall  down  dead  of  heart  disease,'  what  do  you 
think  you  would  do  ^  I'll  tell  you.  You  would 
stand  whaur  you  are,  and  stare,  tongue-tied,  at 
me  till  I  dropped.  How  do  I  ken  ?  By  the 
teaching  o'  that  nicht.  Ay,  but  there's  a  mair 
important  thing  I  dinna  ken,  and  that  is  whether 
I  would  be  palsied  wi'  fear  like  the  earl,  or  face 
death  with  the  calmness  o'  the  minister." 

Indeed,  the  contrast  between  Rintoul  and 
Gavin  was  now  impressive.  When  Tosh  signed 
that  the  weavers  had  done  their  all  and  failed,  the 
two  men  looked  in  each  other's  faces,  and  Gavin's 
face  was  firm  and  the  earl's  working  convulsively. 
The  people  had  given  up  attempting  to  com- 
municate with  Gavin  save  by  signs,  for  though 
they  heard  his  sonorous  voice,  when  he  pitched 
it  at  them,  they  saw  that  he  caught  few  words  of 
theirs.  "He  heard  our  skirls,"  Birse  said,  "but 
couldna  grip  the  words  ony  mair  than  we  could 
hear  the  earl.  And  yet  we  screamed,  and  the 
minister  didna.  I've  heard  o'  Highlandmen  wi' 
the  same  gift,  so  that  they  could  be  heard  across 
a  glen. 

"  We  must  prepare  for  death,"  Gavin  said, 
solemnly,  to  the  earl,    "  and   it  is  for  your  own 


438  The  Little  Minister 

sake  that  I  again  ask  you  to  tell  me  the  truth. 
Worldly  matters  are  nothing  to  either  of  us  now, 
but  I  implore  you  not  to  carry  a  lie  into  your 
Maker's  presence." 

"  I  will  not  give  up  hope,"  was  all  Rintoul's 
answer,  and  he  again  tried  to  pierce  the  mist  with 
offers  of  reward.  After  that  he  became  doggedly 
silent,  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  ground  at  his  feet. 
I  have  a  notion  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
confess  the  truth  about  Babbie  when  the  water 
had  eaten  the  island  as  far  as  the  point  at  which 
he  was  now  looking. 


CHAPTER    XLIV 

END  OF  THE  TWENTY  -  FOUR  HOURS 

OUT  of  the  mist  came  the  voice  of  Gavin, 
clear  and  strong  : 

"It  you  hear  me,  hold  up  vour  hands  as  a 
sign." 

They  heard,  and  none  wondered  at  his  voice 
crossing  the  chasm  while  theirs  could  not.  When 
the  mist  cleared,  they  were  seen  to  have  done  as 
he  bade  them.  Many  hands  remained  up  for  a 
time  because  the  people  did  not  remember  to 
bring  them  down,  so  great  was  the  awe  that  had 
fallen  on  all,  as  if  the  Lord  was  near. 

Gavin  took  his  watch  from  his  pocket,  and  he 
said : 

"  I  am  to  fling  this  to  vou.  You  will  give  it 
to  Mr.  Ogilvy,  the  schoolmaster,  as  a  token  of 
the  love  I  bear  him." 

The  watch  was  caught  by  James  Langlands, 
and  handed  to  Peter  Tosh,  the  chief  elder 
present. 

"  To  Mr.  Ogilvv,"  Gavin  continued,  "  you 
will  also  give  the  chain.  You  will  take  it  off  my 
neck  when  you  find  the  body. 

"  To  each  of  mv  elders,  and  to  Hendry  Munn, 
kirk  officer,  and  to  my  servant  Jean,  I  leave  a 
book,  and  they  will  go  to  my  study  and  choose  it 
for  themselves. 

439 


440  The   Little   Minister 

"  I  also  leave  a  book  for  Nanny  Webster,  and 
I  charge  you,  Peter  Tosh,  to  take  it  to  her, 
though  she  be  not  a  member  of  my  church. 

"  The  pictorial  Bible  with  '  To  my  son  on  his 
sixth  birthday  '  on  it,  I  bequeath  to  Rob  Dow. 
No,  my  mother  will  want  to  keep  that.  I  give 
to  Rob  Dow  my  Bible  with  the  brass  clasp. 

*'  It  is  my  wish  that  every  family  in  the  congre- 
gation should  have  some  little  thing  to  remember 
me  by.     I'his  you  will  tell  my  mother. 

"  To  my  successor  I  leave  whatsoever  of  my 
papers  he  may  think  of  any  value  to  him,  includ- 
ing all  my  notes  on  Revelation,  of  which  I  meant 
to  make  a  book.  I  hope  he  will  never  sing  the 
paraphrases. 

"  If  Mr.  Carfrae's  health  permits,  you  will  ask 
him  to  preach  the  funeral  sermon  ;  but  if  he  be 
too  frail,  then  you  will  ask  Mr.  Trail,  under 
whom  I  sat  in  Glasgow.  The  illustrated  '  Pil- 
grim's Progress  '  on  the  drawers  in  my  bedroom 
belongs  to  Mr.  Trail,  and  you  will  return  it  to 
him  with  my  affection  and  compliments. 

"  I  owe  five  shillings  to  Hendry  Munn  for 
mending  my  boots,  and  a  smaller  sum  to  Baxter, 
the  mason.  I  have  two  pounds  belonging  to  Rob 
Dow,  who  asked  me  to  take  charge  of  them  for 
him.  I  owe  no  other  man  anything,  and  this 
you  will  bear  in  mind  if  Matthew  Cargill,  the 
flying  stationer,  again  brings  forward  a  claim  for 
the  price  of  Whiston's  '  Josephus,'  which  I  did 
not  buy  from  him. 

"  Mr.  Moncur,  of  Aberbrothick,  had  agreed  to 
assist  me  at  the  Sacrament,  and  will  doubtless 
still  lend  his  services.      Mr.  Carfrae  or  Mr.  Trail 


End  of  the  Twenty-four  Hours        441 

will  take  my  place  if  my  successor  is  not  elected 
by  that  time.  The  Sacrament  cups  are  in  the 
vestry  press,  of  which  you  will  find  the  key 
beneath  the  clock  in  my  parlour.  The  tokens 
are  in  the  topmost  drawer  in  my  bedroom. 

"  The  weekly  prayer-meeting  will  be  held  as 
usual  on  Thursday  at  eight  o'clock,  and  the 
elders  will  officiate. 

"It  is  my  wish  that  the  news  of  my  death  be 
broken  to  my  mother  by  Mr.  Ogilvy,  the  school- 
master, and  by  no  other.  You  will  say  to  him 
that  this  is  my  solemn  request,  and  that  I  bid 
him  discharge  it  without  faltering  and  be  of  good 
cheer. 

"  But  if  Mr.  Ogilvy  be  not  now  alive,  the  news 
of  my  death  will  be  broken  to  my  mother  by  my 
beloved  wife.  Last  night  I  was  married  on  the 
hill,  over  the  tongs,  but  with  the  sanction  of  God, 
to  her  whom  you  call  the  Egyptian,  and  despite 
what  has  happened  since  then,  of  which  you  will 
soon  have  knowledge,  I  here  solemnly  declare 
that  she  is  my  wife,  and  you  will  seek  for  her  at 
the  Spittal  or  elsewhere  till  you  find  her,  and  you 
will  tell  her  to  go  to  my  mother  and  remain  with 
her  always,  for  these  are  the  commands  of  her 
husband." 

It  was  then  that  Gavin  paused,  for  Lord  Rin- 
toul  had  that  to  say  to  him  which  no  longer  could  be 
kept  back.  All  the  women  were  crying  sore,  and 
also  some  men  whose  eyes  had  been  dry  at  the 
coffining  of  their  children. 

"  Now  I  ken,"  said  Cruickshanks,  who  had 
been  an  atheist,  "  that  it's  only  the  fool  wha 
says  in   his  heart,  '  There  is   no   God.'  " 


442  The  Little  Minister 

Another  said,  "  That's  a  man." 

Another  said,  "  That  man  has  a  rehgion  to  last 
him  all  through." 

A  fourth  said,  "  Behold,  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  is  at  hand." 

A  fifth  said,  "  That's  our  minister.  He's  the 
minister  o'  the  Auld  Licht  kirk  o'  Thrums. 
Woe  is    me,   we're   to    lose   him." 

Many  cried,  "  Our  hearts  was  set  hard  against 
him.  O  Lord,  are  You  angry  wi'  Your  servants 
that  You're  taking  him  frae  us  just  when  we  ken 
what  he  is  ?  " 

Gavin  did  not  hear  them,  and  again  he  spoke : 

"  My  brethren,  God  is  good.  I  have  just 
learned  that  my  wife  is  with  my  dear  mother  at 
the  manse.  I  leave  them  in  your  care  and  in 
His." 

No  more  he  said  of  Babbie,  for  the  island  was 
become  very  small. 

"  The  Lord  calls  me  hence.  It  is  only  for  a 
little  time  I  have  been  with  you,  and  now  I  am 
going  away,  and  you  will  know  me  no  more. 
Too  great  has  been  my  pride  because  I  was  your 
minister,  but  He  who  sent  me  to  labour  among 
you  is  slow  to  wrath  ;  and  He  ever  bore  in  mind 
that  you  were  my  first  charge.  My  people,  I 
must  say  to  you,  '  Farewell.'  " 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  his  voice  faltered,  and 
wanting  to  go  on  he  could  not.  "  Let  us  read," 
he  said,  quickly,  "  in  the  Word  of  God  in  the 
fourteenth  of  Matthew,  from  the  twenty-eighth 
verse." 

He  repeated  these  four  verses  : 

" '  And  Peter  answered  Him  and  said.  Lord, 


End  of  the  Twenty-four   Hours        443 

if  it  be  Thou,  bid  me  come  unto  Thee  on   the 
water. 

"  '  And  He  said,  Come.  And  when  Peter  was 
come  down  out  of  the  ship,  he  walked  on  the 
water,  to  go  to  Jesus. 

" '  But  when  he  saw  the  wind  boisterous,  he 
was  afraid ;  and  beginning  to  sink,  he  cried, 
saying.   Lord,  save  me. 

"'And  immediately  Jesus  stretched  forth  His 
hand  and  caught  him,  and  said  unto  him,  O  thou 
of  little  faith,  wherefore  didst  thou  doubt  ?  '  " 

After  this  Gavin's  voice  was  again  steady,  and 
he  said,  "  The  sand-glass  is  almost  run  out. 
Dearly  beloved,  with  what  words  shall  I  bid 
you  good-bye  ?  " 

Many  thought  that  these  were  to  be  the  words, 
for  the  mist  parted,  and  they  saw  the  island  tremble 
and  half  of  it  sink. 

"  My  people,"  said  the  voice  behind  the  mist, 
"  this  is  the  text  I  leave  with  you  :  '  Lay  not  up  for 
yourselves  treasures  upon  earth,  where  moth  and 
rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where  thieves  break  through 
and  steal ;  but  lay  up  for  yourselves  treasures  in 
heaven,  where  neither  moth  nor  rust  doth  corrupt, 
and  where  thieves  do  not  break  through  nor  steal.' 
That  text  I  read  in  the  flood,  where  the  hand  of 
God  has  written  it.  All  the  pound  notes  in  the 
world  would  not  dam  this  torrent  for  a  moment, 
so  that  we  might  pass  over  to  you  safely.  Yet  it 
is  but  a  trickle  of  water,  soon  to  be  dried  up. 
Verily  I  say,  unto  you,  only  a  few  hours  ago  the 
treasures  of  earth  stood  between  you  and  this 
earl,  and  what  are  they  now  compared  to  this 
trickle  of  water  ^     God  only  can  turn  rivers  into 


444  The   Little   Minister 

a  wilderness,  and  the  water-springs  into  dry 
ground.  Let  His  Word  be  a  lamp  unto  your 
feet  and  a  light  unto  your  path ;  may  He  be 
your  refuge  and   your  strength.     Amen." 

This  amen  he  said  quickly,  thinking  death  was 
now  come.  He  was  seen  to  raise  his  hands,  but 
whether  to  Heaven  or  involuntarily  to  protect 
his  face  as  he  fell  none  was  sure,  for  the  mist 
again  filled  the  chasm.  Then  came  a  clap  of 
stillness.      No  one  breathed. 

But  the  two  men  were  not  yet  gone,  and  Gavin 
spoke  once  more. 

"  Let  us  sing  in  the  twenty-third  Psalm." 

He  himself  raised  the  tune,  and  so  long  as 
they  heard  his  voice  they  sang : 

**  The  Lord's  my  shepherd,  I'll  not  want ; 
He  makes  me  down  to  lie 
In  pastures  green  ;   He  leadeth  me 
The  quiet  waters  by. 

*'  My  soul  He  doth  restore  again  ; 
And  me  to  walk  doth  make 
Within  the  paths  of  righteousness 
Ev'n  for  His  own  name's  sake. 

**  Yea,  though  I  walk  in  Death's  dark  vale. 
Yet  will  I  fear  none  ill  ; 
For  Thou  art  with  me  ;  and  Thy  rod 
And  staff—  " 

But  some  had  lost  the  power  to  sing  in  the 
first  verse,  and  others  at  "  Death's  dark  vale," 
and  when  one  man  found  himself  singing  alone 
he  stopped  abruptly.  This  was  because  they  no 
longer  heard  the  minister. 


End  of  the  Twenty-four  Hours        445 

"  O  Lord  !  "  Peter  Tosh  cried,  "  lift  the  mist, 
for  it's  mair  than  we  can  bear." 

The  mist  rose  slowl)^,  and  those  who  had 
courage  to  look  saw  Gavin  praying  with  the  earl. 
Many  could  not  look,  and  some  of  them  did  not 
even  see  Rob  Dow  jump. 

For  it  was  Dow,  the  man  with  the  crushed  leg, 
who  saved  Gavin's  life,  and  flung  away  his  own 
for  it.  Suddenly  he  was  seen  on  the  edge  of  the 
bank,  holding  one  end  of  the  improvised  rope  in 
his  hand.     As  Tosh  says  : 

"  It  all  happened  in  the  opening  and  shutting 
o'  an  eye.  It's  a  queer  thing  to  say,  but  though 
I  prayed  to  God  to  take  awa  the  mist,  when  He 
did  raise  it  I  couldna  look.  I  shut  my  een  tight, 
and  held  my  arm  afore  my  face,  like  ane  feared  o' 
being  struck.  Even  when  I  daured  to  look,  my 
arm  was  shaking  so  that  I  could  see  Rob  both 
above  it  and  below  it.  He  was  on  the  edge, 
crouching  to  leap.  I  didna  see  wha  had  haud  o' 
the  other  end  o'  the  rope.  I  heard  the  minister 
crv,  *  No,  Dow,  no  ! '  and  it  gae  through  me  as 
quick  as  a  stab  that  if  Rob  jumped  he  would 
knock  them  both  into  the  water.  But  he  did 
jump,  and  you  ken  how  it  was  that  he  didna 
knock  them  off." 

It  was  because  he  had  no  thought  of  saving  his 
own  life.  He  jumped,  not  at  the  island,  now 
little  bigger  than  the  seat  of  a  chair,  but  at  the 
edge  of  it,  into  the  foam,  and  with  his  arm  out- 
stretched. For  a  second  the  hand  holding  the 
rope  was  on  the  dot  of  land.  Gavin  tried  to 
seize  the  hand  ;  Rintoul  clutched  the  rope.  The 
earl  and  the  minister  were  dragged  together  into 


446  The  Little   Minister 

safety,  and  both  left  the  water  senseless.  Gavin 
was  never  again  able  to  lift  his  left  hand  higher 
than  his  head.  Dow's  body  was  found  next  day 
near  the  schoolhouse. 


CHAPTER   XLV 

TALK    OF    A     LITTLE    MAID    SINCE    GROWN    TALL 

MY  scholars  have  a  game  they  call  "  The 
Little  Minister,"  in  which  the  boys  allow 
the  girls  as  a  treat  to  join.  Some  of  the  charac- 
ters in  the  real  drama  are  omitted  as  of  no 
importance,  —  the  dominie,  for  instance,  —  and 
the  two  best  fighters  insist  on  being  Dow  and 
Gavin.  I  notice  that  the  game  is  finished  when 
Dow  dives  from  a  haystack,  and  Gavin  and  the 
earl  are  dragged  to  the  top  of  it  by  a  rope. 
Though  there  should  be  another  scene,  it  is  only 
a  marriage,  which  the  girls  have,  therefore,  to  go 
through  without  the  help  of  the  boys.  This 
warns  me  that  I  have  come  to  an  end  of  my 
story  for  all  except  my  little  maid.  In  the  days 
when  she  sat  on  my  knee  and  listened  it  had  no 
end,  for  after  I  told  her  how  her  father  and 
mother  were  married  a  second  time  she  would 
say,  "  And  then  I  came,  didn't  I  ^  Oh,  tell  me 
about  me  !  "  So  it  happened  that  when  she  was 
no  higher  than  my  staff  she  knew  more  than  I 
could  write  in  another  book,  and  many  a  time 
she  solemnly  told  me  what  I  had  told  her,  as : 

"  Would  you  like  me  to  tell  you  a  story  ? 
Well,  it's  about  a  minister,  and  the  people  wanted 
to  be  bad  to  him,  and  then  there  was  a  flood, 
and  a  flood  is  lochs  falling   instead   of  rain,  and 

447 


448  The   Little   Minister 

so  of  course  he  was  nearly  drownded,  and  he 
preached  to  them  till  they  liked  him  again,  and 
so  they  let  him  marry  her,  and  they  like  her 
awful,  too,  and,  just  think  !  it  was  my  father ;  and 
that's  all.  Now  tell  me  about  grandmother  when 
father  came  home." 

I  told  her  once  again  that  Margaret  never 
knew  how  nearly  Gavin  was  driven  from  his  kirk. 
For  Margaret  was  as  one  who  goes  to  bed  in  the 
daytime  and  wakes  in  it,  and  is  not  told  that  there 
has  been  a  black  night  while  she  slept.  She  had 
seen  her  son  leave  the  manse  the  idol  of  his 
people,  and  she  saw  them  rejoicing  as  they  brought 
him  back.  Of  what  occurred  at  the  Jaws,  as  the 
spot  where  Dow  had  saved  two  lives  is  now  called, 
she  learned,  but  not  that  these  Jaws  snatched  him 
and  her  from  an  ignominy  more  terrible  than  death, 
for  she  never  knew  that  the  peop/le  had  medi- 
tated driving  him  from  his  kirk.  This  Thrums 
is  bleak  and  perhaps  forbidding,  but  there  is  a 
moment  of  the  day  when  a  setting  sun  dyes  it 
pink,  and  the  people  are  like  their  town.  Thrums 
was  never  colder  in  times  of  snow  than  were  his 
congregation  to  their  minister  when  the  Great 
Rain  began,  but  his  fortitude  rekindled  their 
hearts.  He  was  an  obstinate  minister,  and  love 
had  led  him  a  dance,  but  in  the  hour  of  trial  he 
ha,d  proved  himself  a  man. 

When  Gavin  reached  the  manse,  and  saw  not 
only  his  mother  but  Babbie,  he  would  have  kissed 
them  both ;  but  Babbie  could  only  say,  "  She 
does  not  know,"  and  then  run  away  crying. 
Gavin  put  his  arm  round  his  mother,  and  drew 
her    into    the    parlour,   where    he   told   her   who 


Talk  of  a   Little   Maid  449 

Babbie  was.  Now  Margaret  had  begun  to  love 
Babbie  already,  and  had  prayed  to  see  Gavin 
happily  married ;  but  it  was  a  long  time  before 
she  went  up-stairs  to  look  for  his  wife  and  kiss 
her  and  bring  her  down.  "  Why  was  it  a  long 
time  ?  "  my  little  maid  would  ask,  and  I  had  to 
tell  her  to  wait  until  she  was  old,  and  had  a  son, 
when  she  would  find  out  for  herself 

While  Gavin  and  the  earl  were  among  the 
waters,  two  men  were  on  their  way  to  Mr.  Car- 
frae's  home,  to  ask  him  to  return  with  them  and 
preach  the  Auld  Licht  kirk  of  Thrums  vacant ; 
and  he  came,  though  now  so  done  that  he  had  to 
be  wheeled  about  in  a  Httle  coach.  He  came  in 
sorrow,  yet  resolved  to  perform  what  was  asked 
of  him  if  it  seemed  God's  will ;  but,  instead  of 
banishing  Gavin,  all  he  had  to  do  was  to  remarry 
him  and  kirk  him,  both  of  which  things  he  did, 
sitting  in  his  coach,  as  many  can  tell.  Lang 
Tammas  spoke  no  more  against  Gavin,  but  he 
would  not  go  to  the  marriage,  and  he  insisted  on 
resigning  his  eldership  for  a  year  and  a  day.  I 
think  he  only  once  again  spoke  to  Margaret. 
She  was  in  the  manse  garden  when  he  was  pass- 
ing, and  she  asked  him  if  he  would  tell  her  now 
why  he  had  been  so  agitated  when  he  visited  her 
on  the  day  of  the  flood.  He  answered,  gruffly, 
"  It's  no  business  o'  yours."  Doctor  McQueen 
was  Gavin's  best  man.  He  died  long  ago  of  scar- 
let fever.  So  severe  was  the  epidemic  that  for  a 
week  he  was  never  in  bed.  He  attended  fifty 
cases  without  suflfering,  but  as  soon  as  he  had 
bent  over  Hendry  Munn's  youngest  boys,  who 
both   had  it,  he  said,  "  I'm  smitted,"  and  went 


45©  The   Little   Minister 

home  to  die.  You  may  be  sure  that  Gavin 
proved  a  good  friend  to  Micah  Dow.  I  have 
the  piece  of  slate  on  which  Rob  proved  himself 
a  good  friend  to  Gavin ;  it  was  in  his  pocket 
when  we  found  the  body.  Lord  Rintoul 
returned  to  his  English  estates,  and  never 
revisited  the  Spittal.  The  last  thing  I  heard 
of  him  was  that  he  had  been  offered  the  Lord- 
Lieutenantship  of  a  county,  and  had  accepted  it 
in  a  long  le-tter,  in  which  he  began  by  pointing 
out  his  unworthiness.  This  undid  him,  for  the 
Queen,  or  her  councillors,  thinking  from  his  first 
page  that  he  had  declined  the  honour,  read  no 
further,  and  appointed  another  man.  Waster 
Lunny  is  still  alive,  but  has  gone  to  another 
farm.  Sanders  Webster,  in  his  gratitude,  wanted 
Nanny  to  become  Auld  Licht,  but  she  refused, 
saying,  "  Mr.  Dishart  is  worth  a  dozen  o'  Mr. 
Duthie,  and  I'm  terrible  fond  o'  Mrs.  Dishart, 
but  Established  I  was  born  and  Established  Ell 
remain  till  Em  carried  out  o'  this  house  feet 
foremost." 

"  But  Nanny  went  to  heaven  for  all  that," 
my  little  maid  told  me.  "  Jean  says  people  can 
go  to  heaven  though  they  are  not  Auld  Lichts, 
but  she  says  it  takes  them  all  their  time.  Would 
you  like  me  to  tell  you  a  story  about  my  mother 
putting  glass  on  the  manse  dyke  ?  Well,  my 
mother  and  my  father  is  very  fond  of  each  other, 
and  once  they  was  in  the  garden,  and  my  father 
kissed  my  mother,  and  there  was  a  woman  watch- 
ing them  over  the  dyke,  and  she  cried  out  — 
something  naughty." 

"  It  was  Tibbie  Birse,"  I  said,  "  and  what  she 


Talk  of  a  Little   Maid  451 

cried  was,  '  Mercy  on  us,  that's  the  third  time  in 
half  an  hour  ! '  So  your  mother,  who  heard  her, 
was  annoyed,  and  put  glass  on  the  wall." 

"  But  it's  me  that  is  telling  you  the  story. 
You  are  sure  you  don't  know  it  ?  Well,  they 
asked  father  to  take  the  glass  away,  and  he 
wouldn't ;  but  he  once  preached  at  mother  for 
having  a  white  feather  in  her  bonnet,  and  another 
time  he  preached  at  her  for  being  too  fond  of 
him.     Jean  told  me^     That's  all." 

No  one  seeing  Babbie  going  to  church  demurely 
on  Gavin's  arm  could  guess  her  history.  Some- 
times I  wonder  whether  the  desire  to  be  a  gyspy 
again  ever  comes  over  her  for  a  mad  hour,  and 
whether,  if  so,  Gavin  takes  such  measures  to  cure 
her  as  he  threatened  in  Caddam  Wood.  I 
suppose  not ;  but  here  is  another  story  : 

"  When  I  ask  mother  to  tell  me  about  her  once 
being  a  gypsy  she  says  I  am  a  bad  'quisitive  little 
girl,  and  to  put  on  my  hat  and  come  with  her  to 
the  prayer-meeting ;  and  when  I  asked  father  to 
let  me  see  mother's  gypsy  frock  he  made  me  learn 
Psalm  forty-eight  by  heart.  But  once  I  see'd  it, 
and  it  was  a  long  time  ago,  as  long  as  a  week  ago. 
Micah  Dow  gave  me  rowans  to  put  in  my  hair, 
and  I  like  Micah  because  he  calls  me  Miss,  and 
so  I  woke  in  my  bed  because  there  was  noises, 
and  I  ran  down  to  the  parlour,  and  there  was  my 
mother  in  her  gypsy  frock,  and  my  rowans  was  in 
her  hair,  and  my  father  was  kissing  her,  and  when 
they  saw  me  they  jumped  ;  and  that's  all." 

"  Would  you  like  me  to  tell  you  another  story  ? 
It  is  about  a  little  girl.  Well,  there  was  once  a 
minister  and  his  wife,  and  they  hadn't  no  little 


45^  The   Little   Minister 

girls,  but  just  little  boys,  and  God  was  sorry  for 
them,  so  He  put  a  little  girl  in  a  cabbage  in  the 
garden,  and  when  they  found  her  they  were  glad. 
Would  you  like  me  to  tell  you  who  the  little  girl 
was  ?  Well,  it  was  me,  and,  ugh  !  I  was  awful 
cold  in  the  cabbage.  Do  you  like  that  story  ^  " 
,  "  Yes ;  I  like  it  best  of  all  the  stories  I  know." 
"  So  do  I  like  it,  too.  Couldn't  nobody  help 
loving  me,  'cause  I'm  so  nice?  Why  am  I  so 
fearful  nice  ?  " 

"  Because  you  are  like  your  grandmother." 
"It  was  clever  of  my  father  to  know  when  he 
found  me  in  the  cabbage  that  my  name  was  Mar- 
garet.    Are  you  sorry  grandmother  is  dead  ?  " 

"  I  am  glad  your  mother  and  father  were  so 
good  to  her  and  made  her  so  happy." 
"  Are  you  happy  ?  " 
"Yes." 

"  But  when  I  am  happy  I  laugh." 
"  I  am  old,  you  see,  and  you  are  young." 
"  I  am  nearly  six.  Did  you  love  grandmother  ? 
Then  why  did  you  never  come  to  see  her  ?  Did 
grandmother  know  you  was  here  ?  Why  not  ? 
Why  didn't  I  not  know  about  you  till  after 
grandmother  died  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you  when  you  are  big." 
"  Shall  I  be  big  enough  when  I  am  six  ?  " 
"  No,  not  till  your  eighteenth  birthday." 
"  But    birthdays    come    so    slow.      Will    they 
come  quicker  when  I  am  big  ?  " 
"  Much  quicker." 

On  her  sixth  birthday  Micah  Dow  drove  my 
little  maid  to  the  schoolhouse  in  the  doctor's  gig, 
and  she  crept  beneath  the  table  and  whispered  : 


Talk  of  a  Little   Maid  453 

"  Grandfather  !  " 

"  Father  told  me  to  call  you  that  if  I  liked,  and 
I  like,"  she  said,  when  I  had  taken  her  upon  my 
knee.  "  I  know  why  you  kissed  me  just  now. 
It  was  because  I  looked  like  grandmother.  Why 
do  you  kiss  me  when  I  look  like  her?  " 

"Who  told  you  I  did  that?" 

"  Nobody  didn't  tell  me.  I  just  found  out. 
I  loved  grandmother,  too.  She  told  me  all  the 
stories  she  knew." 

"  Did  she  ever  tell  you  a  story  about  a  black 
dog?" 

"  No.     Did  she  know  one  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  knew  it." 

"  Perhaps  she  had  forgotten  it  ?  " 

"  No,  she  remembered  it." 

"  Tell  it  to  me." 

"  Not  till  you  are  eighteen." 

"  But  will  you  not  be  dead  when  I  am  eighteen? 
When  you  go  to  heaven,  will  you  see  grand- 
mother ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Will  she  be  glad  to  see  you  ?  " 

My  little  maid's  eighteenth  birthday  has  come, 
and  I  am  still  in  Thrums,  which  I  love,  though 
it  is  beautiful  to  none,  perhaps,  save  to  the  very 
done,  who  lean  on  their  staves,  and  look  long  at 
it,  having  nothing  else  to  do  till  they  die.  I  have 
lived  to  rejoice  in  the  happiness  of  Gavin  and  Bab- 
bie ;  and  if  at  times  I  have  suddenly  had  to  turn 
away  my  head  after  looking  upon  them  in  their 
home  surrounded  by  their  children,  it  was  but  a 
moment's  envy  that  I  could  not  help.  Mar- 
garet   never    knew  of  the  dominie  in   the  glen. 


454  The  Little  Minister 

They  wanted  to  tell  her  of  me,  but  I  would  not 
have  it.  She  has  been  long  gone  from  this 
world  ;  but  sweet  memories  of  her  still  grow,  like 
honeysuckle,  up  the  white  walls  of  the  manse, 
smiling  in  at  the  parlour  window  and  beckoning 
from  the  door,  and  for  some  filling  all  the  air 
with  fragrance.  It  was  not  she  who  raised  the 
barrier  between  her  and  me,  but  God  Himself; 
and  to  those  who  maintain  otherwise,  I  say  they 
do  not  understand  the  purity  of  a  woman's  soul. 
During  the  years  she  was  lost  to  me  her  face  ever 
came  between  me  and  ungenerous  thoughts  ;  and 
now  I  can  say,  all  that  is  carnal  in  me  is  my  own, 
and  all  that  is  good  I  got  from  her.  Only  one 
bitterness  remains.  When  I  found  Gavin  in  the 
rain,  when  I  was  fighting  my  way  through  the 
fiood,  when  I  saw  how  the  hearts  of  the  people 
were  turned  against  him,  —  above  all,  when  I 
found  Whamond  in  the  manse,  —  I  cried  to  God, 
making  promises  to  Him,  if  He  would  spare  the 
lad  for  Margaret's  sake,  and  He  spared  him  ;  but 
these  promises  I  have  not  kept. 


THE    END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara  College  Library 
Santa  Barbara,  California 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


|J^5p 


LD  21-10m-10,'48 
{Blllls4)476 


3  1205  02041  7943 


PR 

L^ 

1898. 


'j'.^  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

A  A    001  404  346    7 
Barrie 

— The  little 

•Minister, 


PR 

h07l 

^^ 
1898 


-lii- 


